


Two of Cups

by hypocorism



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Lesbians in Space, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-03-25 10:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13832571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypocorism/pseuds/hypocorism
Summary: Boarding school hijinks! In space!





	1. From the Jump

**Author's Note:**

> More tags will be added as they become relevant. Weekly posting on Wednesdays for now!

_Peaceful Beginnings School for Young Leaders was established in 113 ICD and is one of the oldest and most prestigious preparatory schools in the PANDA cluster. It focuses heavily on both the broad socio-historical context which lead to the foundation of the Intergalactic Council and present cutting edge research into space travel. Students will receive an education from some of the brightest minds in the galaxy and have access to resources and travel to pursue their chosen fields.  
_

—-

Fleur slings her bag over her shoulder and pulls her hair off her neck for what feels like the fiftieth time that day. Even tied up, it seems to cling to her neck with the heat, making her even sweatier and more irritable. She hates giving the impression of someone who sweats.

"Which building is it again?" Her father asks. Fleur carefully slides her communicator out of the front pouch of her bag and shades her eyes to look at the screen, still adjusting to the bright outside light.

"1G," Fleur reads, before switching over to the school map that had automatically uploaded when they checked in that morning. "It's over this way."

"So, your first day!" Her mother says, still managing to sound cheerful in spite of the fact that she's carrying a box in one arm and wheeling a massive suitcase with the other. Fleur does not feel cheerful, and all she has is a duffle bag and her communicator. "It's so exciting!"

"Yes," Fleur says. Her father looks about as thrilled as she feels, although Fleur thinks it's probably less due to the heat and more due to the boarding school thing. It's an excellent school, and both her parents prioritize education, but it's far and it means being away from them and Gabrielle for the first time in her life.

Her mother's stream of overly bright small talk is cut off as 1G looms up above them. It looks a bit intimidating, Fleur thinks, looming and solid with an actual tower smack-dab in the middle. She tilts her chin up and looks intimidating right back.

"This is it, I think," Fleur says, when neither of her parents say anything for a moment. It's probably the tower; it does seem a little excessive. Her mother nods and somehow wriggles the door open so Fleur and her father can squeeze in. The inside of the building is loud and chaotic, but that's honestly a bit of a welcome sight to Fleur. The outside was so staid and stern-looking, it's nice to see the roiling mass of teenagers trailing confused parents and the occasional frazzled teacher trying to direct traffic.

"What's your suite number?" her father asks, raising his voice a little to be heard over everyone.

"Eighteen," Fleur says, pointing up the massive center staircase. "It should be on the second floor, fourth door down the left." Her mother sighs and readjusts her box, but doesn't complain about lugging everything up a flight of stairs.

The door to Suite 18 is mostly open, a girl with pretty, natural hair leaning against the frame and talking to someone inside. She turns around when she hears them approach and smiles.

“Are you in eighteen with us?” she asks Fleur, tone friendly. Fleur nods and forces a smile. She tends to clam up around new people in a way that she knows comes off as rude and supercilious; she’s determined to at least make an effort to avoid that. She isn’t here to make friends, but allies never hurt.

“I’m Hermione,” the girl says, actually offering a formal handshake. She keeps talking in her brisk, businesslike tone as she herds Fleur over to one of the beds. Fleur doesn’t particularly care to be herded, but she can hardly let go of her newfound attempts at social grace so quickly. “That’s Nym- er, Tonks, over by the window. Our last roommate hasn’t shown up yet. Hopefully she-” Fleur tunes Hermione out, taking the opportunity to study her other new roommate. She’s got interesting features, Fleur muses. They’re bold and a bit too large for her face, made more emphatic by her close-cropped bright pink hair. Standing by the window, lit up by the sun with her arms stretched out toward the warmth, she makes an oddly compelling picture.

She turns and sees Fleur staring. Fleur expects irritation or embarrassment, is already starting to tilt her chin up a little in retaliation, but Tonks just laughs.

“I must look totally sun-drunk.” She pulls a face, and Fleur just sort of keeps staring at her, unsure how to respond. Tonks doesn’t seem put off by her silence. “I don’t get much sun, normally. I spend a lot of time in space. We have sun lamps, of course, but it’s not really the same.”

“Right,” Fleur says faintly.

“I’m Tonks,” the other girl says. “Well,” she rolls her eyes, “Nymphadora, actually, but I’m jettisoning that cargo as quickly as possible, you can be sure.”

“Fleur.”

“Did you need a hand with your bags?” Tonks asks, peering around Fleur at the rest of the room.

“You packed almost as much as me, I think,” Hermione says. Fleur fights down a sigh and turns around as well. Hopefully their last roommate will be less nosy. And quieter.

Fleur forces a smile. “You never know what you might need,” she says, floating over to her belongings and skimming a hand across the duffle.

“Yes,” a tiny frown line appears between Hermione’s brows. “I hope I’ve brought enough books.”

Fleur isn’t entirely sure how to reply to that.

“Well,” Fleur’s mother says, gently turning Fleur around to face her. “That’s everything, I think. We should probably leave you to settle in.” She looks reluctant to leave, and Fleur pulls her into a hug with a sudden gush of fear. She feels so young, all of a sudden, alone for the first time in her life with no one she knows nearby. Her parents hug her from both sides, and Fleur can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed at how she’s clinging to them. Too soon, they say goodbye and leave her alone in the room, biting her lip and determined not to cry.

She walks over to her boxes and starts cutting them opened, determined to seem efficient and grown up.

“Have either of you picked which beds you want?” Fleur asks, keeping her eyes down until she’s absolutely sure she won’t tear up.

“Sort of,” Hermione says, heading back toward the bedroom. All the dorms are set up in the same way. They each have a small kitchen and living room off the communal hallway, with a single bedroom and bathroom down a short corridor. The bedrooms for first year students are all built for four people, with two of the beds lofted above the other two. Hermione has claimed one of the bottom bunks, with Tonks opting for the top bed across the room.

“Next to the window,” Fleur says, raising an eyebrow. She immediately questions herself. Too mocking? She relaxes slightly when Tonks grins.

“I can’t believe I’m already predictable.” Tonks pulls a faux-distressed face and Fleur laughs. Her real laugh, the one that makes her snort a bit and that she never uses if she can help it.

“I’ll take this one, then,” she says, spreading her fitted sheet out on the bed under Tonks’ and hoping no one noticed the snort.

“Hello?” Someone calls from the living room. Hermione squeaks a bit and leaps off the bed.

“Welcome!” she calls, already barrelling toward the mysterious fourth member of their suite. Fleur can practically see the clipboard materializing in her hands.

“She seems...friendly,” Fleur says, tilting her head back to look up at Tonks. She is thinking something closer to ‘annoying,’ but she doesn’t want to alienate her roommates from the jump.

“Yeah,” Tonks replies. She stretches out on her bed for a moment and then climbs down the ladder. “I guess we should go help?”

Fleur suppresses a sigh. Tonks’ bizarre confidence may be interesting, certainly more than Hermione’s anxious hovering, but Fleur isn’t particularly here to make friends. She already has friends.

Well, she has Gabrielle.

Her heart sinks a little. Gabrielle, who is now several solar systems away and busy with her own schooling besides.

She gets up to go help her new roommate unpack.

Hermione has a pretty, freckled, ginger girl nearly backed up against the doorway. There are loads of other freckled gingers carrying boxes and bags and what looks like a poorly gift-wrapped toilet seat. Fleur doesn’t ask.

“Hello,” what looks like her new roommate’s mother says. Her smiles goes a little tight as she eyes the hemline of Fleur’s skirt and Fleur smiles at her more widely, sauntering over.

“Goodness,” Fleur says, “I hope we don’t need to fit all of you in here.”

Roommate girl rolls her eyes. Mother makes a quiet little tsking sound and pats her shoulder. One of the boys is too busy staring at Fleur with a vaguely glazed expression to react, but the other stifles a laugh behind his hand. Fleur smirks a little.

“This is Ginny Weasley,” Hermione says, taking over introductions without being asked. “She’s our fourth roommate. Ginny, that’s Fleur, and Tonks. These are Ginny’s brothers Bill and Ron, and her parents.” Hermione is bouncing a little on her toes.

“I see you’ve met the official welcoming committee,” Fleur says, waving a languid hand at Hermione. She mostly does it to see if she can make Ginny’s mum’s mouth go even tighter.

“I’ve brought my own,” Ginny mutters. That makes Fleur like her a bit, in spite of herself.

“Ginny,” her mother scolds.

“Nice to meet you all,” Ginny says, with an enormous fake grin. “Ever so glad I’ve found the place.”

“Pretend you’re not an asshole for at least the first night, Gin,” Bill stage whispers to Ginny. Fleur can’t tell if she’s irritated or pleased that she’s not the only one who finds antagonizing Mrs. Weasley enjoyable.

“Bill led us right to the building,” Mrs. Weasley says briskly. “He’s a fourth year here, so if you girls need anything you can ask him.” She says this mostly to Hermione, who has apparently been deemed most acceptable of the lot of them.

The other brother stops staring at Fleur for long enough to look irritated.

“I’m in my third year, here. I know the campus just as well.”

“Of course you do, Ron.”

Fleur briefly debates flirting with one or both of the boys, but having them potentially hanging around in the following weeks is more of a deterrent than irritating Mrs. Weasley is an attractant.

“I’m sure we’ll find our way around. In fact,” Fleur turns to her roommates with an expansive gesture and attempts a welcoming smile. “Why don’t we all walk around to look for our classes together tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Ron says. Fleur is rapidly shuffling through her mental file of faces to indicate ‘fuck off’ without alienating her roommates, but fortunately Ginny beats her to the punch.

“You,” Ginny says firmly, “are not invited.” She turns to the rest of her family and makes shooing motions. “I’m settled. Thank you all for coming, love you loads, please clear out.”

“Well,” Mrs. Weasley says hesitantly. “I’ll keep the communicator on tonight, just in case you need us.”

“Lovely. Thanks,” Ginny sets down her last box, accepts hugs from her parents and brothers, and then waves them down the stairs. “Fucks sake,” she mutters, as soon as the door shuts. “Sorry about that. Have you all picked beds?” She asks this last bit over her shoulder, already heading down the hall to the bedroom.

“We can move,” Hermione offers hurriedly.

“Nah, I can sleep wherever,” Ginny calls back. Tonks has picked up approximately three boxes and is walking down the hall already, so Fleur half-heartedly grabs the smallest bag and follows.

It turns out to be lucky she’s barely holding anything, because Tonks collides with the wall halfway and nearly drops a box on her toe. Fleur catches it just in time.

“Whoops,” Tonks says.

“Maybe a few less boxes next time?” Fleur says, amused in spite of herself. Tonks just shrugs and laughs, dropping her armful in the corner.

“Should we unpack?” Hermione asks, eyeing the slightly disaster-zone room. From the neatly folded quilt on her bed and the row of shoes peeping out from underneath, Fleur gets the sense Hermione has already unpacked.

“Are you kidding,” Tonks says, hopping a little. “Actual proper gravity? I don’t even need to secure everything right away. Planets are awesome.”

Hermione looks less than thrilled, and for once Fleur actually feels a twinge of sympathy with her. She prefers her space to be neat, also.

“Agreed. I’m starving, let’s go find the dining hall.” Ginny tucks in the last corner of her blanket and then jumps from her top bunk to the floor.

“You daredevil!” Tonks exclaims, laughing. She starts eyeing the ladder of her own bunk. Fleur, thinking of the incident in the hall, makes an executive decision.

“I’m hungry, too,” she says. “We can eat and then unpack.”

Hermione eyes the boxes again, but doesn’t protest.

The dining hall is ridiculously far from their dorm. They have to slog past the second, third, and fourth year dorms before they can get there. The only housing buildings farther away are the fifth year ones, and that’s because most of the older students have hoverboard permits.

“This is ridiculous,” Ginny groans, dragging her feet dramatically. They all laugh and she preens a little.

“At least we’ve got a kitchen,” Tonks says optimistically. “And I heard there is a fairly well stocked pantry near the dining hall. We can use some of our food credits there.”

“Cooking?” Ginny sounds skeptical. “Who cooks? We’re sixteen, not sixty.”

“I like baking,” Fleur says. It flies out without conscious thought, the environment of camaraderie pulling an unexpected candidness from her. Fleur doesn’t like to give away facts about herself so easily, especially not truthful ones. Then again, this is all new. This is for five years, not the usual six to eight months, hopping from program to program to soak up as many credentials as she possibly can.

“Good. You two can be the official chefs of the suite.” Ginny says, breaking Fleur out of her thoughts. “Hermione and I will just laze around and eat.”

Hermione, who doesn’t look like she’s lazed a day in her life, looks somewhat apprehensive at this. Tonks laughs and elbows Ginny.

“See if I make anything for you! I’ll just trade Fleur for baked goods and you two will be left with long treks to the dining hall.”

“Rude of you,” Ginny grins.

Fleur feels inexplicably annoyed at the easy way Ginny and Tonks seem to banter. They continue ribbing each other back and forth, with Fleur and Hermione following like awkward shadows, all the way to the dining hall.

 _I don’t need friends, anyway,_ Fleur tells herself, more confidently than she feels.

They’re approaching the dining hall when they’re stopped by a boy holding a stack of fliers. His clothes are neat and the trousers look freshly pressed, but his mass of unruly dark hair makes them look somehow borrowed.

“Are you four first years?” he asks.

“Is it that obvious?” Ginny replies, bravado faltering a little. The boy smiles and shakes his head.

“I just haven’t seen any of you around before. Welcome to Peaceful Beginnings.”

“Thanks,” Hermione says, peering around Tonks’ elbow. “What are those?”

“Oh. I’m recruiting for my club.” He starts passing the fliers around. “Don’t feel any pressure to come, but I know first year can be really overwhelming and it’s nice to have a group of older kids to ask for advice.” He smiles at each of them and makes eye contact as he hands them the papers. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

“Biodiversity Protection Squad,” Hermione reads, brow wrinkling a little in confusion. Harry laughs.

“It’s not a very catchy name, I know. Clubs have to have ‘demonstrable academic value’ to be established, you know how it is.” They all smile even though they don’t, really. “We see a lot of cute animals and are always willing to help out our younger members,” Harry beams. The expression sits on his face approximately like the neat clothing. It’s artificial, somehow.

“Sounds cool,” Ginny says, smiling and tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll let you guys go eat, but feel free to come to our first meeting! The time and location are on the flier.” Harry waves and moves on to another group of students.

“Come on,” Tonks says, folding up her flier and sticking it in her pocket, “I’m starving!”

Between eating and unpacking and trying to avoid stepping on any toes (physically or metaphorically), the evening whirls by. It’s fine for a while, even a little nice.

It’s not until later that night, in the quiet dark of the bedroom, that it hits Fleur all at once.

It’s barely dawn back home, but maybe…

_You awake?_

Her communicator chimes a second later, and Fleur quickly turns off the volume.

**Obviously!!! Mum and dad have me on the run up to school schedule. It’s dreadful.**

Fleur smiles at the tiny picture of Gabrielle at the top of her communicator screen.

_Eleven years old and already sick of watching the sunrise?_

**I can watch the sunrise in my bedroom at a reasonable hour. In higher resolution, even.**

Fleur thinks of Tonks, arms outstretched and blissfully happy. Sun-drunk.

_It’s not the same though, is it?_

**Too early for philosophy** , Gabrielle writes. **Ugh. Mum’s getting on me about communicators before lunch. Talk soon, love you**

Several solar systems away, Fleur falls asleep with a slight smile on her face.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.


	2. Just a Joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling in always causes a few growing pains, right?

Day two, Ginny thinks as she slides into consciousness. None of them had set alarms for this morning, wanting to squeeze out as much sleep as possible to offset the exhaustion from moving. Still, Ginny’s up early; the sunlight is just barely coming in through the window and laying quietly across the foot of her bed. It’s not her usual habit, but she doesn’t take space journeys enough to adjust easily to it suddenly being a different time. Her home planet is barely a hop away, but it’s much later there.

Ginny stretches, trying to clear the sleep-cobwebs from her brain. She throws on some clothes and wanders out into the living room, stomach grumbling for breakfast. She starts opening the cabinets in the kitchen at random, not really holding out much hope. They had brought a few things back from the cafeteria the night before (some little cartons of milk, an apple, and a few purloined sachets of tea), but nothing substantial enough for breakfast. Ginny polishes the apple on her shirt and takes a huge bite.

There’s not much to do, and Ginny quickly gets bored. She can’t really unpack without waking everyone up. She doesn’t really have any interest in unpacking, anyway. She supposes she could read, or look over the orientation packets, but…

Ginny considers resisting, she really does, but growing up in a house where fast reflexes are the primary currency doesn’t lend itself to the development of impulse control. Ginny’s bored, and when she’s bored she mostly does one thing: fuck with people.

The problem that faces her is deliciously tantalizing, because these are _new_ people to fuck with, and this poses a new set of challenges. What will irritate them, but not irritate them so much that it will provoke undue retaliation? What particular buttons can Ginny seek out and press? And most importantly, where to start?

No one else has fully unpacked; even Hermione was too tired by the time they got back from eating to finish up her last few boxes. This means that much mischief in the ‘messing with other people’s stuff’ category is difficult or impossible. Doing anything to their rooms would affect Ginny too, so that’s out.

She does have one idea, though, and it’s a classic.

With her trap successfully set, reading or messing about on her communicator becomes even less interesting. Ginny fidgets in the living room, and is just considering going for a walk when she hears someone moving around in the bedroom. Ginny fights down a slightly manic grin, pretending to be buried in her orientation packet but really peering up over the top of it so she can see the tail end of the hall.

The partly ajar door to the bedroom creaks open, and Ginny hears a splash and a shriek as the bucket of water placed carefully on the top tumbles to the ground.

A torrent of Eeonian swearing emits from the hall, followed very closely by an extremely irritated Fleur, looking rather like a soaked cat. Ginny nearly bites through her own tongue in the effort of not laughing.

“Oh, is it raining?” she asks faux-politely. Fleur narrows her eyes at Ginny, but before she can do anything there’s a skid and a bang in the hallway.

“Ouch,” Tonks says, hopping out of the hallway and holding a foot in one hand. “Did you know there’s water- oh.”

Hermione, hair slightly squashed on one side and a pillow crease on her cheek, pops her head around Tonks.

They all four look at each other silently for a moment and then the quiet is broken by a loud snort from (rather unexpectedly) Hermione. This sets Ginny off, no longer able to contain her laughter, and Hermione starts rather helplessly giggling along as well. Tonks starts laughing as well, but Ginny’s a bit more interested in the rapid silent battle crossing Fleur’s delicate features. Her face flits from murderously angry, to carefully blank, to thoughtful, to a casual light amusement that comes nowhere near her eyes.

Ginny, still giggling a little, pushes her luck by grinning right at Fleur, who grins right back at her. It’s a calculating grin, and Ginny can already see retribution coming in the near future.

 _This went absolutely smashingly_ , thinks Ginny, _even if I do say so myself._

—

Fleur fumes silently and tries to force herself to listen to the casual conversation Tonks and Hermione are having while they wait for water to boil for tea. After Ginny’s…whatever the fuck that was, Fleur had changed into dry clothes and tried to put on a cheery face. Well, a reasonably neutral face. Cheery isn't really Fleur's milieu.

Even though the ship has probably left the dock on Ginny realizing how annoyed she is, Fleur clings to a (mostly vain) hope that she's coming off as totally unbothered. She'd like to be a person who's unbothered by things. Besides, Hermione and Tonks didn't seem to think the prank was a big deal, even though Tonks slid into the wall and hurt her foot. Fleur really doesn't want to instantly become the wet blanket roommate.

Still, Fleur spends most of the morning fuming and plotting revenge. She considers putting dye in Ginny's shampoo while Ginny and Tonks bicker over the small cartons of milk. She contemplates hiding all of Ginny's left shoes while Hermione slaps their hands away from the last carton of milk and hisses at them to, "Save it for tea!" She thinks about slipping something unpleasant and slimy into Ginny's bed while she waits for the tea to boil.

Then she has tea for a bit, and doesn't think of anything unpleasant. After all, It's impossible to focus on unpleasant things while having tea.

“We should probably get some supplies today,” Hermione says thoughtfully, once everyone’s settled in the living room with their mugs in front of them. "We'll need food, for when the dining hall is closed and we're hungry."

"We need to get some things for baking as well," Tonks says, winking at Fleur. Fleur is somewhat caught off guard by the casual reference to her admittance the day before. She almost suspects she's being mocked, but Tonks' face is so open that Fleur thinks she's probably just trying to be nice.

"That would be sensible," she says, in what she hopes is still within a reasonable reaction time. She takes a sip from her mug to cover up any awkwardness, looking down to study the neat lattice-like pattern on the side. Their dishes and pans are all random cast-offs from their various families, and nothing really matches. It makes Fleur feel simultaneously adrift, far away from her old home, and like she's settling quickly into her new reality.

“I’m thinking breakfast first, then we can go look for our classes," Hermione continues.

“Agreed,” Tonks says, staring mournfully down at her empty cup.

“We can stop by the pantry on the way back and see what they have,” Ginny adds. They all agree, dispersing to get ready for the day.

One unexpected benefit of being drenched that morning is that Fleur is already nearly ready to go. She has time to fix her hair and makeup, getting a full ten minutes alone in the bathroom before any of the other girls are even dressed. She double checks her communicator is at full power and that she has her campus map and orientation pack downloaded, and then slips on some comfortable ballet flats.

They start off for campus, with Hermione speed-walking down the walkway and Ginny close behind her. Tonks hangs back a little, looking around at the daytime hustle and bustle of campus, and Fleur walks next to her. She's not particularly eager to talk to either of the other girls, and anyway Tonks seems distracted and a safe bet.

They're a few minutes away from the dining hall when Tonks nudges Fleur with her elbow and slows her pace a little more.

"Thanks for being such a good sport about this morning," she says quietly. Fleur blinks at her a bit. Tonks keeps surprising her. It's not unpleasant, exactly, but it is...unbalancing.

Fleur forces a smile. "Of course. It was just a harmless joke."

Tonks grins and moves on, pointing out something in one of the flowerbeds by the dining hall.

Breakfast is quiet. They’re all still new to each other and don’t have many common topics of conversation yet, so when Hermione suggests going over their class schedules and planning out a route, everyone happily agrees.

Fleur half listens, eating her cereal and thinking about Ginny, and Tonks. While revenge still seems incredibly tempting, the best strategy is probably to let it go. Let them all think she's over it, or has forgotten. That she's easygoing, someone they can all get along with. It's much less pleasant to contemplate than throwing all Ginny's underclothes out the window, but Fleur is used to doing unpleasant things to reap gains she can barely see in the distance.

Besides, Fleur smiles to herself, leaving Ginny braced endlessly for a revenge that isn't coming is a prospect that is not without appeal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a rough brain fog week so shortish chapter this week. Hopefully the next one will be nice and beefy. Thanks so much to NachoDiablo for betaing the last chapter/being a general sanity hand holder (rip I forgot to thank you), and to wildflame for betaing this chapter!


	3. The Hangar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls go exploring

Hermione, as the one who came up with the plan to find their classes, goes first when it comes to listing off her schedule. They each have four classes for the year. Well, technically five. The first years all have the same twenty minute class at eight bells every morning. But, as Ginny says, “There’s no homework so it doesn’t count.” The first years choose their own classes, although the school imposes certain restrictions and requirements.

“Okay,” Hermione reads. “Cartography,” she glances around, but no one else has that first. “Basic Spaceship Navigation-”

“Oh,” Ginny says. “I have that second as well.” Hermione smiles at her.

“Then I have Underwater Communications.” Hermione looks up to find the other three staring at her blankly. “What?” she says defensively. “It sounded interesting!”

“Er, definitely,” Tonks says quickly. Ginny shakes her head. “What do you have fourth, then?”

“Survey of PANDA Literature,” Hermione says, a little sharply.

“I think we all have to take that,” Ginny says. “At least, that’s what I heard. I’ve got it first. Anyone else?” Fleur and Tonks shake their heads and Ginny sighs. “Ugh and Disaster Preparedness fourth, that’s sure to be dull but mum insisted.” Ginny looks around hopefully. “No one?” She pouts slightly. “Well, have any of you got Agility and Strength for Varying Gravities? It’s a mouthful but at least we’ll get out of these stuffy classrooms.”

“I’ve got that!” Tonks says, with a little wave.

“Nice,” Ginny grins. Fleur clears her throat.

“Didn’t you grow up on spaceships? Why do you need it?”

“Er,” Tonks says, scratching behind an ear. “Well, actually, my mum insisted on that one. I’m dead clumsy. She thinks it’ll help.” Tonks shrugs, and Ginny gives her a sympathetic grin.

“I’ve got History of Court Fashion, first,” Fleur says.

“Me, too,” Tonks smiles over at her and Fleur feels something settle in her stomach, something that isn’t too fond of Ginny and Tonks bonding over mum issues. Everyone has mum issues, it’s hardly unique.

“Then PANDA lit,” Fleur continues.

“I’ve got that second as well,” Tonks laughs.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if you had all of yours together?” Hermione muses. Tonks laughs again and Fleur can’t decide if she’s irritated with Hermione, or not.

“I don’t think so, not that it wouldn’t be fun,” Tonks says with a cheeky grin. “I have free study fourth.”

“In what?” Hermione asks curiously.

“Engineering,” Tonks says. Hermione clearly wants to ask about this, but Tonks doesn’t give her a chance. “How about you, Fleur?”

“I’ve got Cartography third, and Cluster Languages last.”

“Well,” Hermione says, counting on her fingers, “I think that’s nine classes to find.” She pauses briefly, looking overwhelmed. “Ten, counting homeroom.” Hermione brightens. “I know where that is already, though. The building is right by the fourth year quad in the center of campus. We’ll go by it as soon as we leave the dining hall.”

“Let’s head there first, then,” Ginny says decisively.

“We can sit outside and make a list of rooms to visit,” Tonks suggests. “It’s still so nice out and I think I saw some benches in front of that building.”

After they have the list, none of them are really sure where to go first, so Hermione puts herself in charge of navigating them around campus. She has the map open on her communicator and has delegated list-reading to Ginny. The pop-up building projections are too difficult to see with the sun so high overhead, so she’s just using the flat map.

As she and Ginny bicker over the best way to get to the first classroom (they’ve decided to start at the far end of campus and work their way back), Fleur and Tonks lag a little behind.

“So,” Fleur says. Tonks looks over at her and she smiles. “What made you pick court fashion?” Tonks shrugs.

“Do I not strike you as the fashionable type?”

Fleur doesn’t exactly know how to respond to this. “Not so much that,” she says slowly. “It’s just, it’s more about etiquette than style, isn’t it?”

“And I’m not very polite?” Tonks asks. Fleur is starting to wish she’d never started this conversation, which must show a bit on her face because Tonks breaks into a grin. “I’m just teasing you,” she says. Fleur returns a weak smile, still not entirely sure of her footing. “I like fashion. Or, well, I like picking what I wear and how I present myself, I guess. I ended up making a lot of my own clothes, growing up. It’s hard to get new things when you’re in space so I ended up remaking a lot of old clothes. For myself at first, and then for other people, too. I’m not so bothered about the historical and social elements, but I guess that’ll be interesting as well.”

“That’s wonderful. I can’t sew at all.” Fleur worries, suddenly, that this will sound self-deprecating. “I expect I’ll pick it up quickly, though,” she adds.

“It’s not too hard,” Tonks says. “One of my cousins learned from one of his teachers when he was younger, and then he taught me after he got tired of me pestering him to make things for me.” Tonks smiles a little at the memory. “I was only about seven. He sat me down with some fabric and told me to ‘sew in a straight line,’” she laughs. “Teaching wasn’t really his strong suit, but he went around to practically the entire ship and bragged about the shitty pillowcase I made as my first project.”

“Well,” Fleur says, touched by the story in spite of herself, “you’ll have to help me if we need to actually sew anything. If you want to, that is,” she adds, inwardly cursing her own awkwardness and social ineptitude. Why can’t she just not be bothered by what people think of her? Like Tonks. Like _Ginny_.

Tonks nudges Fleur’s hand and smiles at her.

“Of course I’ll help. Why are you taking court fashion? Just wanting to pick up a new hobby?”

“Not exactly,” Fleur says. She doesn’t plan to expand on her answer, even when Tonks looks at her and raises one eyebrow.

“Come on! I told you my embarrassing pillowcase story!”

Fleur fights down a smile, then shrugs. “I plan to be on the Intergalactic Council one day, so I need to learn everything I can about etiquette and things like that.”

“Aren’t those jobs like, massively rare and hard to get?” Tonks asks. Fleur shakes her hair back a little. This, at least, she feels confident about.

“Yes, they are, but I’ve been preparing for most of my life. This is just the next step.”

“Wow,” Tonks says. “That’s one hell of a goal.”

It surprises a little laugh out of Fleur.

“It’s what I want for my life. I don’t mind putting in the work.”

“Well,” Tonks says. “Then you have to help me with the questions about court and I’ll help you with the sewing. Totally even trade, right?” Tonks rolls her eyes, self-mockingly.

“It’s a deal.” Fleur looks down at her hands, worried after it’s out that she sounds too earnest.

“You two are so slow!” Ginny yells back at them. “Hermione found a shortcut.”

“We’re coming,” Tonks laughs. She grabs Fleur’s hand and pulls her up toward the other girls, and Fleur is so startled she just follows. “Which way is it?” Hermione eyes their hands but doesn’t say anything about it.

“We have about six more buildings to pass,” Ginny says, looking down at the map thoughtfully. “There’s a small field, and then the hangar.”

“I’m sorry it’s so far,” Tonks says apologetically. “I could have found it on my own.”

“It’s good practice, navigating campus,” Hermione says briskly. Ginny rolls her eyes, but she grins at Hermione after she does it and Hermione doesn’t seem to take any offense.

“I kind of want to see how to get off campus, anyway. All the cafes and stores and stuff are just beyond the hangar, so it’s good to know where it is,” Ginny says.

“Are we allowed off campus?” Fleur asks, doubtful. “I thought you had to at least be a second year.”

“Not if you don’t get caught,” Ginny says, grinning. Hermione levels a severe look at them.

“The actual rule is that you have to be accompanied by an older student or a teacher,” she says.

“But…”Ginny says hopefully.

“There’s no ‘but.’ It’s just the rule.”

“But…” Ginny says again, voice sing-songing, “as long as you’re back in the dorms by curfew, it’s probably fine.”

“Against the rules,” Hermione says definitively. Ginny shrugs.

“Ron never got more than extra homework for it. Bill never got caught.”

Hermione frowns and opens her mouth but Tonks jumps in hastily. “I guess we’ll have to make friends with some older students if we want to have any adventures at all.”

“As long as it isn’t my brothers,” Ginny says, looking at Fleur for some reason. Fleur looks back blankly. She isn’t interested in Ginny’s stupid brothers. It’s not her fault one of them can’t keep his eyes in his head.

The conversation doesn’t go any further than that, because they’ve arrived at their destination. The hangar is fairly imposing from the outside. It makes sense, it has to be big enough to house several full-size ships after all, but it’s still a little intimidating. Tonks gives a low whistle as they stop to take it all in.

“Should we go inside?” Ginny asks. Her typical bravado seems to have faltered somewhat, and it comes out as more tentative than she probably intended it to.

“That’s okay,” Tonks says. “I’ve already made you guys trek all the way out here. I know how to find it, I can figure out how to navigate the inside once school starts.”

“I kind of want to see what it looks like inside, though,” Hermione says quietly, as if a teacher might pop up and scold her for it.

“Well, if Hermione’s in, I definitely am,” Ginny says.

“Me, too,” Fleur adds quickly.

“Um, okay,” Tonks says. “We’ll see if we can get in.” She isn’t expecting to run into anyone inside. The professor who she’s meant to be studying with is off-planet right now, according to a message Tonks received telling her their lessons wouldn’t start until the second week of classes.

They wander around the hangar, ignoring the hinged spacecraft door that takes up practically an entire wall. There’s no way they’ll be able to lift that open, and the outside opening mechanism requires an access code and retinal scan. There’s another door on the side of the building, though. It’s still fairly massive, it takes both Tonks and Ginny to heave it open, but it’s unlocked. It rolls slowly back into the wall with a groan, and the four of them slip inside the darkened hangar. Tonks, who was holding it open for the rest of them, lets go. Considering the fuss the door made about opening, Fleur expects it to stay where it landed. The second Tonks takes her hand off the handle, though, it practically springs forward. She tries to catch it, but it slams back into place with a bang.

“Shit,” Tonks swears quietly.

“Make sure it opens again,” Hermione says, voice high with anxiety and echoing in the huge space.

“Have you got the handle, still?” Ginny whispers.

“Yeah,” Tonks says. “Who- Whoops, sorry,” she apologizes, as she inadvertently smacks her waving hand into Fleur’s side. Fleur stifles a laugh and grabs the still flailing hand.

“Here, just show me where the handle is and I’ll help you pull.”

Fortunately, the door slides open again when they pull together, although it makes a loud complaining noise.

“We’re good,” Tonks says, slightly breathless from effort. She grabs Fleur’s hand again, eager to not get separated. Fleur reaches out for Hermione, who has already grabbed Ginny’s hand.

The four of them, hands tightly linked, tiptoe into the building cautiously. As her eyes start to adjust, Fleur is awed by the massive space and the quiet darkness of the slumbering ships. Nearly all of the models look familiar to her, she’s even flown in some of them, but seeing them all looming together is a little intimidating. While she’s travelled a lot for school and summer programs, most hangars she sees are bustling and busy, and she’s rarely (if ever) traveling alone. Does Tonks? They’re only sixteen, can the other girl really fly these ships?

“Do you know how to fly these things?” Hermione whispers, unconsciously echoing Fleur’s thoughts. Fleur is struck with the sudden urge to laugh. Here they are, tiptoeing and whispering in what is essentially a big empty room. She bites her lip to stifle the urge and keeps listening.

“Some of them,” Tonks says quietly. “My focus was more on building than piloting or navigation, through.” The other girls look impressed, glancing around the hangar in the semi-darkness. Ginny turns and is about to start walking toward a small podship in the corner when they hear a loud clanging sound coming from the far end. Hermione squeals and squeezes Fleur’s hand in surprise, and Tonks peers forward nervously.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Hermione says, in an anxious whisper.

“It was probably just the air vents, or something,” Fleur says. Even to herself, she doesn’t sound convinced. The girls stand silently for a moment before Ginny, determined, starts walking again. She’s only taken a few steps, pulling the other girls with her through their joined hands, when the sound comes again. A series of slamming bangs gets slowly closer to them and Hermione shrieks and leaps back into Fleur. They nearly all topple over before Fleur manages to steady herself.

“Run!” Tonks yelps, towing Fleur (and Hermione, who has Fleur’s hand in an absolute death grip) back toward the exit. They get to the door quickly, but getting it open is difficult and Fleur’s hands are sweating with fear which makes getting a proper grip nearly impossible.

“Get it open!” Hermione wails.

“We’re trying,” Ginny snaps. The noise is getting closer and closer and the door just won’t move. With a surge of adrenaline, Fleur finally manages to shove the door open an inch, and Tonks wedges her hands into the gap to push it more quickly. The girls tumble out into the sunshine of campus and Hermione immediately starts running, glancing over her shoulder to make sure they’re following. Ginny is close behind Hermione, but Fleur stops when she realizes Tonks isn’t with them.

“What are you doing?” Fleur asks, trying to pull Tonks away.

“The door didn’t-” Tonks stops. Propping open the door is a confused looking repair android.

“The hangar is currently closed,” it drones. “Please come back next week when normal business hours resume.” With this, the android easily pulls the door closed. Behind her Fleur hears Ginny start laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Hermione says, indignantly. “You were scared, too!” Ginny doesn’t answer, too busy cackling to even breathe properly. Hermione is standing next to her with her arms folded and her eyes narrowed. Tonks sits down on the grass and flops backward in relief.

“I actually thought we were going to die for a second,” she says to the sky. Fleur starts to smile, the absurdity of the situation catching up to her. Once she starts laughing, Tonks isn’t far behind. After a moment, even Hermione starts grinning.

“Right,” Ginny says, after they’ve all stopped laughing. “No more rule breaking, I’ve learned my lesson.” When all three girls give her a skeptical look she amends her statement. “Well, for today at least.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to NachoDiablo for beta-ing/character advice/general hand holding. Your holo-bird is in the mail!


	4. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School projects and new friends

Tonks wasn’t exactly expecting History of Court Fashion to be easy, but she did think that the first week would at least start off slowly. It’s barely the second day of classes and she’s still half asleep when they get assigned their first task. Tonks stares blearily at the message on her communicator, trying to make sense of it.

_When you arrive at class today, you will choose your partner for your yearly project. The two of you will design and construct a Court-appropriate outfit. You can choose to reference any planet or historical period, but you will be assigned a galaxy and a Court role. You must submit at least 2000 words of research throughout the semester and-_

“Did you get this message about court fashion?” Fleur leans over to whisper to her. Their homeroom teacher is talking about appropriate situations for the school song at the front of the room, but pretty much everyone is ignoring her.

“Yes,” Tonks groans. “This sounds like so much work.”

“I know!” Fleur exclaims. The girl sleeping at the end of the row lifts up her head to glare at them for talking. Fleur glares back, but lowers her volume to continue reading the message. “‘Student fashion show?’ ‘At least sixteen sources?’”

“At least we’re supposed to have lots of time to get supplies,” Tonks says dubiously. “Hey, you’ll work with me, right?”

“Obviously,” Fleur says. “You still have to teach me how to sew!” She doesn’t actually seem like she’s joking, but it makes Tonks giggle. Ginny’s hand comes up to cover her mouth.

“Plan later,” she mumbles, “some of us are sleeping.”

Tonks obediently shuts up, sending a message to their court fashion teacher to name Fleur as her chosen partner. They were asked to do that before class that morning or risk being randomly assigned a partner. Tonks informs Fleur she sent the message, and then practices her open-eyed napping skills for the rest of homeroom until they’re dismissed to go to first period.

She and Fleur picked two machine stations toward the middle-back of the classroom yesterday, and they hurry toward the same seats when they arrive. Their teacher, Professor Malkin, has already shown a penchant for firing questions at the first several rows, and all they’ve had to do so far is read the syllabus. Tonks is fairly confident in her sewing, but she’d still prefer not to have someone hovering over her and frowning while she tries to put in a zipper or raise a hemline.

Professor Malkin starts reading off assignments as soon as the roll has been called, not bothering to give context or any kind of preface. The poor students whose last names come earliest in the alphabet scramble to write down their galaxies and court roles when half of them haven’t even taken out their communicators yet. Tonks is grateful she was the one who sent the message to their teacher, so she and Fleur have a little extra time before ‘T’.

“Tonks. Delacour. Wisea Formation. Royal Consort.” Tonks enters that into her communicator and then glances over at Fleur to see if she has any ideas. Fleur looks thoughtful for a moment before she types something into her communicator. A second later, a new message pops up on Tonks’ screen.

 _Is Jiiania too obvious?_ Tonks smothers a laugh.

_It is the capital planet of the Wisea Formation._

_True. Their dresses are gorgeous, though._ Tonks nods. She opens up her universal map and zooms in on the Wisea Formation, flicking through the planets thoughtfully.

_Should we pick something obscure? I feel like that would go over better with Malkin._

At the front, said professor finishes reading off assignments and sits down. Presumably, this is the point where they are supposed to start planning for their projects. The other pairs around the room exchange glances and slowly start talking, so Tonks and Fleur switch to speaking out loud as well.

“I agree,” Fleur says, “but that might be hard to find research and historical precedent for. With a more populous planet or one that actually has a historical council presence, we have information to pull from. The last thing we want is to have points deducted because of inadequate documentation.”

Tonks can think of quite a few things she wants less than a points deduction, but Fleur is bent over her communicator with a serious-looking frown so she just makes a hum of agreement. So much for an easy way to get better at sewing. Still, she’s here, and doing well in this class seems important to Fleur. May as well learn.

“We could pull from whatever the ruling bodies of the planet customarily wear,” Tonks offers.

“True,” Fleur says. “It would be more research, but I think you’re right...” she trails off, cutting her eyes forward toward the professor.

“So,” Tonks turns back to her communicator, “what kind of thing do you want to wear?”

“Me?” Fleur asks. “I thought you were going to be the model!”

“Why would you assume that?” Tonks asks, amused.

“Because of your whole, ‘I like to control how I present myself’ thing,” Fleur says. Tonks stifles a laugh at Fleur’s mimicry of her hodgepodge accent.

“That would be a waste, though, wouldn’t it?” Tonks says raising an eyebrow.

“Why?” Fleur asks. Tonks rolls her eyes, and looks meaningfully at Fleur. “Oh,” Fleur looks down at herself, the tosses her hair. “Well, if you insist.”

“I think it’s for the best,” Tonks says, biting down on a grin. “Anyway, since I’m probably going to be doing most of the sewing it will make fittings easier if you wear whatever we make.”

“That sounds like an excuse to get out of actually teaching me anything,” Fleur says primly.

Tonks laughs. “Why don’t we pick a planet and an era first? We can figure out who is going to model whatever we make later.” Fleur gives an elegant little shrug of assent, and Tonks hunches over her communicator, swishing between galaxies. She zooms in on a small green planet thoughtfully. “What about Tajjha?”

“Hmm,” Fleur stares off into space, and Tonks can practically see her mentally flipping through her council history. “No members or consorts from there, I don’t think.”

“No,” Tonks confirms, after checking her communicator.

“Oh!” Fleur perks up, rapidly typing something before sliding the screen around so Tonks can see it.

“Who is that?” Tonks asks.

“Jayna Tajj. She was a second cousin of a council member in the mid 200s, and the president of Tajj in her own right.”

“How do you remember that?” Tonks is astonished. She can barely list the current council members, let alone the family relations of past members. Fleur preens a bit.

“A lot of memorizing,” she says. “Anyway, what do you think? She was sort of…unusual, clothing-wise, but she definitely had a major impact on Tajjha fashions. Rulers always do.”

“For better or for worse,” Tonks says drily. Their uniform design is a result of a particularly fashion-challenged planetary empress. She looks at the screen again, thoughtful. “This could work, though. I mean, obviously we’d have to adapt the tail feathers a little-”

“Why did people think those were a good idea?” Fleur agrees.

“But, yeah. It’s definitely original. It’s not too similar to the stereotypical Jiiania fashions but it has a basis in a specific historical period and at least a tenuous connection to the council.”

“Perfect,” Fleur says, grinning. “We have an idea!” Tonks smiles back at her before pulling some of the white blank paper off the roll at the end of their station.

“I have sort of an idea,” she says. “I think we should definitely keep the pants. Council outfits are almost always robe-type things, so that’s definitely an original idea.” Fleur nods in agreement. “What do you think about colors?”

“Well,” Fleur says slowly. “Jiiania colors are red and gold, with the sky blue Wisean crest, generally.”

“But?” Tonks asks, looking up from her sketch. Fleur taps her chin thoughtfully, flipping through their reference pictures again.

“I think we should have more green in it. Like, reference the red, gold, and blue, but keep it distinctly different? Does that make sense?” Tonks nods.

“What about green opening into blue for the pants?” She tries to sketch what she means, green fabric hiding small flashes of blue that will appear and disappear as the wearer walks in them.

“Yes, definitely,” Fleur says. “I love that!” She draws a little smiley face next to the pants with an exclamation mark after it. Tonks giggles and sketches a tiny hat for the face.

“Too bad no one wore hats in the 200s,” Fleur says mournfully.

“They were all about the veils,” Tonks agrees, sketching a few delicate lines for the sleeves.

Fleur gives a little exclamation, tapping Tonks’ arm until she looks up from her sketch. Wordlessly, Fleur holds up her communicator. Tonks bursts out laughing, earning glares from their stressed-looking neighbors. She covers her mouth to smother the noise. “We have to,” Fleur says seriously. “It’s the perfect finishing touch.

“That’s so impractical,” Tonks says. Fleur frowns a little, drawing back into herself, but Tonks interrupts. “I love it,” she says firmly, pulling Fleur’s communicator back toward her. On the screen, Jayna Tajj is wearing an actual live bird in an ornate golden birdcage. It’s perched carefully on her head, just above where her veil starts. Tonks draws a little cartoon bird on her sketch. It’s got a speech bubble that says ‘Liberation for all birdkind.’ A little smile plays around Fleur’s mouth. “I’m not putting a real bird on your head,” Tonks blurts. She considers adding ‘We can’t risk mussing up that gorgeous hair,’ but decides it’s a bit too flirty.

“But it’s authentic,” Fleur protests. She looks genuinely distressed at the idea of doing things anything less than perfectly.

“I’ll program you a holo-bird.”

Fleur considers this, tapping her chin. “That will do,” she says primly.

Tonks grins down at her sketch, ignoring the little voice in the back of her head protesting at how much extra work she’s just volunteered herself for. “I’m glad we ended up being roommates,” Tonks says impulsively, keeping her eyes down. This turns out to be a mistake.

“While that is a very nice sentiment, it has nothing to do with the History of Court Fashion,” Professor Malkin says. Tonks nearly snaps her pencil as she jolts upright. Fleur, Professor Malkin frowning over her shoulder, is staring at Tonks with wide eyes.

 _How did she sneak up on us?_ Tonks wonders, exchanging a nervous look with Fleur.

“Um, we’ve chosen our planet and era?” Tonks says, vaguely indicating the sketch and then blanching and covering the bird speech bubble and smiley face.

“Hmm,” the professor says, unimpressed. “Back to work, ladies.”

“Yes, Professor Malkin,” they chorus.

Fleur types furiously on her communicator for a minute, stealing little glances until she’s certain that the professor has swooped down on someone else.

“I’m glad we ended up being roommates, too,” she says softly.

In spite of almost getting in trouble, Tonks doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the class.

—

Four hundred years ago, the ancient ziggurat in the center of the Peaceful Beginnings campus was empty and falling into disrepair. The school was built as a last-ditch effort to save the ruin from being demolished or completely abandoned, with several preservation societies lobbying for decades to get the project approved by the PANDA emperor. When the school was first built, though, the administration had largely avoided renovations or changes to the existing structure and chose to build around it instead. While repairing and restoring the ziggurat was a long-term goal of the school's, it wasn't safe or secure enough to hold classes in. This meant that it was sort of an odd focal point to the campus. The architectural style was much older than that of the classic 100s-style buildings of the central campus or the more modern dormitories and gardens.

The ruin was slowly repaired and built up during the early generations of students, but the result is a little unusual. Parts of the building are still considered unsafe and forbidden to most students while the western half and the entirety of the lower two floors are dedicated to the school library. It's mostly paper books; Peaceful Beginnings has a huge hoard from the PANDA cluster and other galaxies much of the massive building is dedicated to storage of the general collection. There are also specialized sections for different focuses and, of course, an entire floor set aside for digital storage access devices. It's constantly organized and maintained by the staff of librarians, but learning to navigate it is still a challenge most students don't master for at least their first year.

Tonks is no exception; she has no idea where to find the book she's looking for. She supposes she could technically download it onto her communicator, but it isn't really the same. She likes reading paper books when she can since it's a luxury she hasn't always had. They're vastly impractical to pack on space ships, they take up too much room and there's no way you can ever bring enough for the length of your journey. She generally has to make due with reading on her communicator when she's in space, so she's determined to use as many physical books as possible while she can. That’s why she’s spending her midday break the third day of classes wandering around the maze-like library instead of actually eating.

Tonks accesses the library map again and squints at it in confusion. The shelf in front of her is labelled “39182 ZHCX” which is supposed to correspond to local planetary authors, but according to where she thought she was on the map, she’s supposed to be somewhere in the 604 NGC collection three galaxies away. Tonks sighs and flips the map around in vain. She really wants to read this book. It’s the last one in the series and currently the protagonists are stranded on an iceberg while the narwhal revolution rages in the sea below.

“Maybe that’s supposed to be the third floor?” she mutters to herself. She turns, still absorbed in her communicator, and nearly smacks into someone. “Oh,” she says. “I’m so sorry, I’m completely lost and not looking where I’m going.”

“No problem,” the boy says, smiling at her. Tonks peers at him, realizing he looks vaguely familiar.

“Have I met you?” She asks.

“I’m not sure,” the boy demurs. “I’m Harry. Are you a first year?”

“Oh!” Tonks says, remembering. She shifts her communicator out of the way to shake Harry’s hand. “I’m Tonks. I saw you recruiting for your club when I went to dinner with my roommates the first day.”

“Oh, cool,” Harry says, smiling. “How are you liking Peaceful Beginnings so far.”

“Pretty well. The library is a little confusing,” Tonks jokes, glancing around.

“What are you looking for? I can try to help.”

“Oh, I don’t want to take up your time,” Tonks protests.

“It’s no problem,” Harry says. His tone is so friendly and confident that Tonks relents and shows him the map.

“It’s supposed to be in collection 9910 ILTL 8 but I have no idea where to find that,” Tonks explains.

“Yeah, it can take a while to learn how to navigate here,” Harry says sympathetically. “That’s actually on the top floor and you can only get to it using the lift. There are no stairs because the second to top floor is being repaired right now and we aren’t supposed to go through it.”

“How do you remember everything?” Tonks exclaims. Harry laughs.

“I still get lost here sometimes, I just happen to be a fan of The Ebb-Tide Wanderings series as well.”

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Tonks asks. “I’m on the last book and I can’t wait to finish it.”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Harry promises. “Definitely let me know when you get through it and we should talk.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Tonks agrees. She sort of expected older students to be standoffish and unfriendly, but Harry seems nice.

“Here you go,” he says, pulling a book off the shelf.

“Thank you so much. I would probably never have found this.”

“No problem.” Harry smiles at her, and Tonks casts around for something to say.

“What was your club called, again? I’m sorry, I think I lost the flier.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Harry says, tone friendly. “I know the first week of classes is really busy, especially for first years. It’s called the Biodiversity Protection Squad. Our first meeting of the term is early next week, if you want to stop by. Here,” he rummages around in his bag, “this has the date and location on it.” Tonks takes the flier and folds it carefully.

“I’ll try and stop by. Let you know how the book was.” She holds it up awkwardly, but Harry doesn’t seem put off.

“I have to get to class, but I’m glad I could help,” he says, smiling broadly. “I’ll see you around.”

Tonks tucks the flier into her bag and goes to check out the book, mind already wandering to the world of Ebb-Tide and the peril of her favorite character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I basically owe Nacho my firstborn


	5. It’s Not A Party If It’s Mandatory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls attend a mixer.

Fortunately for Fleur’s sanity, the rest of her classes are considerably less intense than History of Court Fashion. They’re covering things almost everyone has read already in Survey of PANDA Literature, so it’s essentially glorified babysitting. Fleur is just glad Tonks is in the class with her. She doesn’t have to find yet another near-stranger to sit with, and the faces Tonks pulls when the class gets too aggressively boring are vastly entertaining.

Cartography is easy, but the material is dry and Fleur has limited interest in learning beyond the basics in navigation. Her focus is better spent on things that will actually help her in her future career, and although the break in intensity is nice, it does give her the annoying feeling that she’s lagging behind, somehow.

She supplements the light workload of Cartography and PANDA Lit by forming an informal language study group with Hermione and another girl in their building. They had asked a few other people, but most of the first year students are just happy to take the easy required courses this early in the year. Fleur contributes her notes from Cluster Languages, Hermione her notes from Underwater Communications, and Padma her notes from Pictographic Writing Theory.

The time flies by, and before they know it they’ve made it through an entire week of classes. The evening of the fifth day, the last one before their two day break, there is a mandatory event for all first years.

“It seems kind of fake to call it a party when we have to be there,” Ginny points out.

“I don’t know,” Tonks says. “That outfit screams party to me.” She gestures to Ginny, who’s got on a very short black dress.

“What? I need to wear it somewhere before it gets too cold.”

“I agree,” Fleur says, coming out to join them in the living room. It makes her feel slightly like breaking out in hives, agreeing with Ginny over anything, but Fleur is happy with the way her own outfit turned out and is feeling magnanimous. “Why not dress up now? I’m already getting bored with the uniform thing.”

“You’re so sparkly! You look like the night sky!” Tonks says, laughing. Fleur feels her stomach give a pleased little hum, and she’s glad she decided to be polite.

“Well,” Hermione says with a sigh. “Now I’m definitely changing. I thought I’d just wear slacks or something but you’ve all dressed up.”

“I haven’t!” Tonks protests.

“Well, but you’re all,” Hermione gestures vaguely at Tonks.

“What?” Tonks asks, and Hermione looks a bit embarrassed.

“Cool,” Ginny says fervently. Tonks laughs again, and Fleur grinds her teeth in the effort to keep smiling. Tonks _does_ look cool, it’s silly to be annoyed with Ginny for just pointing out the truth.

“Are we ready to go?” Fleur asks.

“Just give me a moment,” Hermione calls, heading back to the bedroom. She quickly changes into a flowy white dress that drapes softly off one shoulder and accents her dark skin beautifully, and they leave the dorm.

In spite of the delay getting ready, other students are still leaving their rooms and heading down to the quad. Most of them have dressed up as well; it seems like the combination of wanting to make a good impression and the desire to make the most of their time out of uniform convinced most of them to wear their best.

A domed tent takes up most of the space in the quad. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but Fleur hears the excited chatter of a group of first years who passed while they were setting up and peeked through the windows. Someone’s claiming there’s an ice sculpture and Fleur is pretty sure she hears one boy saying there are personalized seats. She’s a little skeptical of that, but is still curious to get inside the tent and see what’s going on.

The four of them join the winding receiving line. Ginny is bouncing a little in excitement and Tonks and Hermione are craning their necks to try and see inside.

“Anything?” Ginny asks. She’s the shortest of all of them, especially since she’s wearing flats while Tonks has thick-heeled boots on and Fleur high heels.

“It’s too far,” Tonks complains, “and I’m pretty sure they have the flaps closed.”

“Why all the mystery?” Hermione muses.

“I don’t know. It’s exciting though, isn’t it?” Ginny asks.

The buzz of anticipation gets more and more pronounced the closer they get to the tent. Even Fleur, who rather expects this will be as dull as any other school sponsored event, feels the excitement in the air shimmering across her skin.

The tent is beautiful inside, although it’s almost a letdown after the rumors. The ceiling is draped in soft sparkling silk to resemble the night sky, and there’s a giant chandelier that they hung who knows how. There are no personalized seats, although there is an ice sculpture of a panda. Tonks gasps and immediately goes over to look at the centerpieces. Fleur follows her more interested in whatever has fascinated Tonks than in Hermione and Ginny’s quest for food.

Tonks seems to be murmuring to the flowers as Fleur approaches, curious. Tonks looks up after a minute and startles slightly when she sees Fleur waiting.

“Sorry, were you guys wanting to go get food?”

“I didn’t fancy the wait,” Fleur shrugs. “You like flowers?” Tonks nods, hand reaching out almost unconsciously to stroke the petals.

“They don’t grow very well in space. Most of the plants we have are strictly for food purposes. Decorative plants just aren’t practical.” She addresses all of this to the centerpiece she’s leaning over. Fleur couldn’t tell you what’s in it, except the most popular and well-known varieties. In spite of her name, she’s never cared much about flowers. The almost worshipful fascination on Tonks’ face is oddly compelling, though. Awe and happiness practically radiate from her, all at the sight of some simple plants.

“What’s your favorite?” Fleur asks. Tonks shrugs and glances over at her.

“I don’t really know; I’m still learning about them.” Fleur notices she lingers over the soft-petaled red axah, though, stroking her fingers along the edge. “I want to take a plant cultivation class next semester,” Tonks continues.

“That sounds fun,” Fleur says. “I’d take it with you.” She says it impulsively, she and her parents planned out pretty much all of her classes before she even got her acceptance letter and plant cultivation definitely did not make the list. She’s too interested in the little smile tucked at the corner of Tonks’ mouth to worry overmuch about empty promises.

“That would be great,” Tonks says sincerely. She sighs a little and pulls herself away from the flowers. “We should probably go get some food before everything good is taken.”

“Yeah,” Fleur agrees. She’s reluctant to leave their peaceful little bubble, but the party is getting loud already and they should probably find their friends.

—

Their roommates have already made about twenty new friends in line, and Ginny seems to be having an in depth discussion about cloning with one of them.

“Wouldn’t that be weird, though?” Hermione breaks in, wrinkling her nose. “Like, imagine there were three of me.” After she says it, she looks contemplative and Ginny laughs.

“You’re thinking about how much reading you could do with three sets of eyes, aren’t you?”

“No!” Hermione says quickly. Ginny laughs again, but also gives Hermione a tiny side hug.

“How did cloning even come up?” Tonks asks, amused.

“Padma’s taking a class in genetics research,” Hermione says, indicating the girl she was talking to. Fleur, who knows Padma slightly from their language study group, exchanges a nod of acknowledgment with her.

“That sounds way more advanced than it actually is,” Padma demurs. “We’re not actually doing any research first year, just studying the current advancements.”

“Still pretty cool,” Ginny insists. Padma shrugs.

“They have a really fascinating history of inter-species hybrid research here, so it’s cool to get to see some of the original notes and experiments. What are you guys studying?”

“I have no idea yet,” Hermione says, frankly. “There are so many options!”

“Yeah I’m basically just letting my counselor suggest courses,” Ginny shrugs.

Fleur, flashing back on the comprehensive plan of study she has outlined to meet all her requirements as quickly as possible and fit in as many council electives as she can, feels a brief moment of envy.

“Politics and court etiquette for me,” she says, tossing her hair. Ginny, to Fleur’s immense satisfaction, rolls her eyes.

“I’m not sure yet either,” Tonks says. “My parents want me to do engineering. It’s awesome that you know what you want already,” she says, smiling at Padma and Fleur. Fleur tries not to look too gloating. Ginny can keep her silly easy course schedule.

The conversation moves on to the decorations at the party and the likelihood that any danceable music will be played. The stone-faced fifth year seated near the sound equipment seems to make that unlikely.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to actually have fun at this,” Padma says, conspiratorily. “It’s, like, a networking thing.”

“I agree. If we were meant to be enjoying ourselves the food lines wouldn’t be so long,” Ginny complains. “I just want to eat and take off my shoes.”

“Just take them off now,” Tonks suggests. Fleur can’t help the horrified face she makes, even though Ginny notices and smirks.

“I am going to stay fancy for at least the first bit of this thing. But,” she pauses to point around their little circle, “you had all better be impressed.”

“That you managed to stay properly clothed for an hour?” Fleur says. “Oh, we are.”

Ginny flushes, and Fleur feels a brief surge of triumph until Tonks actually _sits down in the line and starts taking her boots off_.

“I couldn’t even manage that much. These boots are killing me,” she says, grinning at Ginny. Ginny, slipping off her own shoes, darts a smug look at Fleur.

Fortunately for Fleur, they arrive at the front of the line a few moments later, before an awkward silence has time to settle in. They pile up their plates with food, squeezing through the still-growing crowd to find a table. Most of the group they were standing in line with peel off to other tables, although Padma and a couple of the other girls from the line end up sitting nearby. Between the music and the chatter, it’s too loud to talk across the table, they spend the next few songs eating quietly.

Fleur, who was the last one to the table, is sitting next to Hermione, with Tonks and Ginny across the table. Hermione tries to start up a conversation about Mermish dialects, but Fleur only half listens. Tonks and Ginny are whispering and giggling, and Fleur has the horrible, creeping fear that they’re talking about her.

Hermione is nice enough, and she’s a good study partner, but Fleur doesn’t feel any particular urge to become closer friends with her. She’s stuck with these roommates at least for the rest of the year and she already has to deal with Ginny being…Ginny. If Ginny gets Tonks on her side…

“Don’t you think?” Hermione asks. Fleur looks at her blankly.

“Oh, definitely,” she says. Hermione raises an eyebrow, then glances across the table.

“What are you two whispering about?” Hermione asks suspiciously. Tonks gives a slightly guilty start and Ginny laughs.

“We may have been debating a bit of mischief,” Tonks says, leaning across the table so she can lower her voice a bit. Hermione sighs.

“What now?”

“Come with me and see,” Ginny says, winking. She starts to get up, but Tonks shakes her head and laughs.

“No way! You’ll get in trouble.”

“So?” Ginny says. Hermione sighs and starts eating her salad.

“I’ll go,” Fleur says, getting to her feet. Ginny raises both eyebrows, and Fleur looks back at her challengingly. She can be fun, too. Anyway, it’s probably good to keep an eye on Ginny and make sure whatever she has planned doesn’t end up rebounding back on Fleur. Again.

“Alright,” Ginny says. “Let’s go.”

Fleur can feel Hermione and Tonks watching them as they weave their way through the crowd, heading toward the sound equipment. There are two large box speakers sitting in front of a table. A confusing cluster of wires hook them up to a blocky communicator, which has a playlist on the screen.

“Retro,” Ginny says in Fleur’s ear. She turns to the girl sitting behind the ancient communicator with a broad smile on her face. “Hi!”

“What do you want?” the girl asks.

“Drew the short straw?” Ginny asks sympathetically.

“Pretty much. I should have gone for food committee.”

“How long do you have to run the music?”

“For the rest of the night,” the girl complains.

“What if,” Ginny says, acting like the idea has just occurred to her, “someone offered to take over for you?” The fifth year eyes her suspiciously. Ginny widens her eyes, the picture of innocence.

“Are you offering?”

“Maybe,” Ginny singsongs. “I don’t see any teachers around, who would even know?” She has a point. There are a few other fifth year students hovering near the edges who have clearly been drafted as chaperones, but most of them are either talking to each other or messaging on their communicators. Behind the sound equipment, the fifth year looks like she’s debating: freedom vs. possibly getting in trouble.

“Nothing you wouldn’t let your grandmother hear,” she finally says, coming out from around the table and ceding the communicator to Ginny.

“Oh, of course,” Ginny says. Her face is the picture of innocence until the fifth year wanders off to join her friends, and then it lights up with a smile of demonic glee. “Joke’s on her. My grandmother was a deep space pirate radio DJ.”

“Of course she was,” Fleur mutters.

“I’m not listening to your negativity, Delacour,” Ginny says, already focused on the communicator. “It’s time we got this party started.”

Fleur leaps half a foot into the air when a dance remix suddenly starts blasting out of the speakers.

“I’m right next to them,” she complains, but Ginny doesn’t hear. She’s flipping through the intergalactic music library on the communicator and putting together a playlist. Fleur gives up and goes to get Tonks and Hermione. She might as well enjoy herself while Ginny is distracted.

“How the hell did you do that?” Tonks asks admiringly as soon as Fleur gets back to the group. Fleur shrugs with false modesty.

“Let’s enjoy it before someone stops her. Come dance,” Fleur yells over the music. With Ginny in charge, it’s increased exponentially in volume. Tonks grins and says something Fleur can’t hear, getting to her feet and following her onto the dance floor. The little lights on the roof of the tent twinkle over them, lighting their skin in time with the music.

In her peripheral vision, Fleur sees Padma and two other girls dragging a reluctant Hermione onto the dance floor in the center of the party. Ginny switches the track to a Brenx song that was popular a couple years ago, and all the first years cheer in excitement.

“I love this song!” Tonks yells. Fleur smiles and twirls her around. Tonks isn’t necessarily the most graceful dancer, but she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Fleur finds herself enjoying her time with her chosen partner far more than she ever has formal court dance practice. Before long, though, Padma pulls them into a twisting circle dance that’s forming and Fleur loses sight of Tonks in the crowd. She feels a tiny stab of disappointment, but throws herself into the music and the waves of excitement rolling off the crowd.

Ginny’s brief (but eventful) tenure as DJ ends when one of the first years gets too excited and knocks over a table. The fifth years, rousing themselves from their conversations with annoyed superiority, shut off the music and switch it back to the boring initial playlist.

Students start to filter out after that, tired from their first week of classes and dancing. Ginny, bored without any mischief to make and with at least three fifth years watching her at all times, and Hermione head back to their dorm early, with Tonks and Fleur following shortly after.

Fleur walks back to their rooms in the semi-darkness, head tipped up to look at the stars. She likes to do this when she’s happy, sometimes, make a note of where the stars are. She’s seen so many different skies in so many different places, and looking at the vast field of space laid out above her is always comforting. Grounding.

“What are you thinking about?” Tonks asks. Fleur drops her chin to look at Tonks.

“Nothing, really. This was a fun night.”

“Yeah,” Tonks agrees. She hesitates a moment, like she’s going to say something she isn’t quite confident in “I’m-”

“Fleur! Tonks!” Someone yells. Padma jogs up to meet them. “Mind if I walk back with you? My roommates left ages ago.”

“Of course,” Tonks agrees easily, her diffidence from a moment before evaporating. “Which building do you live in?”

“I’m in 1G.”

“Oh!” Tonks says, surprised. “We live there, too!” She looks at Fleur in excitement, and Fleur forces a polite smile. Whatever Tonks was going to say, it’s gone now. No point worrying about it.

“Padma’s in a study group with Hermione and me,” she says.

“Oh, sorry,” Tonks laughs. “I’m oblivious, I guess.”

“No worries,” Padma says, falling into step with them. “You’re up in eighteen, right? I’m on the ground floor.”

“You and your roommates should come over for dinner one night!” Tonks says excitedly. Fleur fights down a sigh. More unnecessary socialization.

“That would be great,” Padma says. “None of us can cook and I’m already getting sick of dining hall food.”

“It probably won’t be anything too fancy,” Tonks warns. “I tend to stick to the basics.”

“Anything that isn’t tinned soup would be heaven at this point,” Padma laughs.

“What’s your communicator username?” Tonks asks. “That way we can set up a dinner thing.”

“Ravenqueen29,” she says, wincing. “It’s so dorky, I know. I need to change it.”

“It’s okay,” Tonks says. “Mine was totallytonks until like two weeks ago. I guess embarrassing communicator names are just a part of life.”

Fleur, whose communicator name has been professional and serious since she got it at seven years old, doesn’t say anything.

“We definitely need to figure out some new ones,” Padma laughs. “I’m hoping to put off the boring first name last name thing for another couple years at least.”

“I'm never using my first name,” Tonks says fervently. Padma raises an eyebrow.

“Is it that bad?”

Fleur tries to stifle her laugh, flashing back to Tonks loudly and emphatically correcting their homeroom teacher the first day of classes. Tonks grins at her.

“Oh, it’s that bad,” she says. Padma laughs obligingly.

“Well, this is me,” Padma says, indicating Suite 2. “Thanks for walking with me! I’ll see you guys around campus.”

“For sure,” Tonks agrees. Fleur waves languidly. As she and Tonks walk up the stairs, she muses on their earlier conversation.

“What were you about to say?” she asks Tonks. “Before Padma came up to us, I mean.”

“Oh,” Tonks says. “It wasn’t important.”

“You sure?” Fleur prods, feeling an odd stab of disappointment.

“Definitely. Good night, Fleur. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Tonks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep an eye out for Nacho’s cameo ;)


	6. Rebuilding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks adjusts.

Tonks curls up on her side and forces herself to keep her breathing even, eager not to cry in front of her new roommates. She thought this would be easier for her. She’s never had a real home, not like the other three girls. They all grew up on the ground of one planet or another, making memories connected to the walls of a house and the layout of a town. They have memories of parks that they played in and restaurants where they ate. They had to leave it all behind, moving to an entirely new planet for school. Tonks didn’t have any of that. She didn’t grow up in one place, and spent barely any time on land at all. The closest she got to a normal childhood experience was living on the space station her parents were running from when she was seven to when she was eleven.

She expected this to be a nice change, being under the sun and having real, growing plants around her all the time. And it is, in a way. She just didn’t expect to feel this odd, disconnected loneliness.

To be honest, she isn’t exactly sure what she misses. Her parents, of course, but she’s used to not seeing them for chunks of time. With the amount of travelling they do, separately and together, she’s been left alone with nannies for weeks at a time since she can remember. Even on their longer trips when she went with them, Tonks spent more time with tutors or running around with the kids of other engineers and explorers than with her mother and father.

While she had friends, they never stayed in one place long enough for her to get really close to anyone. She still messages Sirius, the only other family member she’s ever met, occasionally, but it’s more a relic of that one idyllic summer they spent wreaking havoc all over a moon base than a sustained connection.

Tonks stares out the window, wishing it were dark enough that she could pretend she’s back among the stars. She thinks maybe it’s the holding still that’s so hard. The desperate smallness of being tacked down and not moving, instead of free-floating through space.

She bunches her hands in the covers, clenching and releasing her fists to try and ground herself. It doesn’t help. The glowing display of her watch, dim in the darkened room but still all too readable, feels like it’s mocking her. She’s been lying in bed for hours and the other three drifted off to sleep ages ago. Tonks gives up, getting up on her hands and knees and crawling over to the ladder. She’s practically gotten this routine down to a science, getting out of the bunk bed quietly enough to not disturb the other girls. She isn’t sure how long she can keep going on so little sleep, but for now this is what she does.

The kitchen is quiet, the huge picture window shrouded in darkness and only the glowing screens of the appliances cutting through the night. Tonks flips the light on and pads over to her cabinet, opening it quietly and pulling out the ingredients she needs.

Breakfast bars this time, she thinks. None of them have much time in the morning, especially Tonks who sleeps as late as she can to try and squeeze in a little extra rest. It’s nice to have food they can just grab and take with them. She makes sure the door to the bedroom is shut tightly before measuring and blending her ingredients, humming quietly to herself. The familiar rhythm of baking is soothing, reminding her of countless spaceship kitchens all tied together by her presence and her labor.

“Can’t sleep again?” Tonks jumps a little. “Sorry,” Ginny says, yawning. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t realize how late it was. There are oatmeal bars if you want one.” Ginny makes a pleased noise and grabs one of the bars before ambling over to the couch. She lies down and groans.

“What monster decided this was an acceptable time for classes, anyway.”

“I’m not sure,” Tonks says, amused. She carefully slides a tray of mini quiches out of the oven and sets them on the cooling rack. Ginny is still face down on the couch and grumbling, but the bar in her hand is half eaten so she must be somewhat awake. The other two girls drift in shortly after, Hermione wearing her uniform skirt and a pajama top with her hair still a bit flat on one side and Fleur with perfectly applied eyeliner but still in her sleep shirt.

“You’re my favorite roommate,” Hermione says fervently as she slides a mini quiche onto a plate.

“Hey!” Ginny says, her head popping up over the back of the couch. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“My loyalty is easily bought using baked goods,” Hermione says, smiling at Ginny fondly. Ginny clutches her chest and falls back dramatically.

“You wound me to the core. I’m going to need an extra oatmeal bar to recover.” One of her hands peeks over the back of the couch and beckons. Tonks laughs and brings her one.

“Okay. Tonks is my favorite, too.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Hermione sing-songs. Ginny flips her off.

Fleur watches the goings on with an amused smile, sleepily munching a quiche and leaning dangerously on her stool.

“You’re going to tip,” Tonks says, gently pushing Fleur upright. She doesn’t move away immediately, letting Fleur lean against her for a moment with her eyes closed. In the background, Ginny and Hermione continue bickering.

“Five more minutes,” Fleur mumbles. Tonks laughs and Fleur smiles at her and gives a demure yawn.

“You’re like a little kitten when you’re sleepy.”

“What can I say,” Fleur says, stretching. “I, too, have nine home planets and teleport at inconvenient times.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, you two,” Ginny says, leaning into their conversation. “Stop flirting and get dressed. We’re going to be late.”

Tonks feels her stomach twist uncomfortably at the look of annoyance on Fleur’s face. She turns to put the remains of their breakfast away.

All of the first years have the same short class at the start of every day. It’s huge with all of them in one room, but it’s generally fairly quiet since it’s so early. Their only task is to check in with the professor and then ask any questions they might have. Sometimes there are short lectures, but it’s only twenty minutes long so there isn’t time for much. Ginny thinks it’s really just so none of them get in the habit of skipping classes, but Tonks likes it. She likes walking to class with all four of them together and starting the day off in a group of her peers. Everyone is quiet and soft and sometimes Tonks brings extra food for the people who sit near them.

That morning, Tonks slides her communicator into the keyboard dock and powers it on, as usual. She likes to get to class a little early and check her messages there. Hermione’s almost always working on an essay or squeezing in some extra reading, Ginny usually naps, and Fleur stares into the distance looking vaguely bored. (Tonks is fairly sure that this is Fleur’s version of napping, when outside of the safe walls of their rooms. And then she scolds herself for thinking a bit too much about Fleur and goes back to her communicator).

Tonks likes the quiet, centered feeling dealing with her messages first thing gives her. She got in the habit living in space, when most of her interaction with other people was through the communicator, and it makes her feel more at home.

Most of her inbox this early in the year are school-wide blasts that don’t apply to her, but there is one message that is specifically addressed to all the first years.

_Welcome to Peaceful Beginnings! I’m your student body president, Draco Malfoy._

_It’s never too early to get involved in student government! Peaceful Beginnings has a long, proud history of student activism, with many of our graduates going on to hold positions in both local government and the Intergalactic Council. While many student clubs have limited options for first years, we specifically reserve five slots on our own council for new voices. If you are passionate about governmental issues in the PANDA galaxy and beyond, this is the club for you! Our first meeting (536.16.26 at seven bells, evening) is held in the fifth year quad. See you there!_

At the end of the message there’s a little animated panda (their galaxy’s mascot) smiling and waving.

Tonks has just barely finished reading the message when the class gets called to order. She looks up from her communicator, stretching her wrists carefully so as not to dislodge Ginny dozing against her shoulder.

“We’re starting,” she whispers to Fleur on her other side. She’d wake Ginny, but Ginny never bothers pretending to pay attention in this class.

“I’m up,” Fleur says, blinking rapidly. She fumbles her own communicator out of her bag and turns it on, wincing a little at the bright light.

At the front of the room, their homeroom teacher is pulling stacks of brightly colored communicator covers from a large box.

“Your official school cases have finally come in,” she says. “Will those of you at the end of your row come down and get some to pass out?” Obediently, the selected students file toward the front of the room. “There is a small chip included in each package. Plug it into your communicator to download the five year planning software. It’s never too early to start thinking about the future, first years. This program will help you choose the best classes for your interests and give you all the relevant contact information for professors and advisors.”

“We’ve barely started the year,” Ginny groans, thunking her head on the table.

“It’s never too early to start thinking about the future,” Hermione says crisply. She probably means it earnestly, but Ginny snorts at the way Hermione echoes their teacher so exactly.

Personally, Tonks kind of agrees with Ginny. She’s starting to get nervous. Between the clubs and the classes and all the ominous questions about the future, she’s wishing she had the same strong ideas about her career that Fleur does. Even the fervent interest Hermione takes in anything and everything would at least be a direction.

She takes off her old communicator case and reaches down for her bag. She intends to just drop the case in, but she’s tired and uncoordinated and she accidentally knocks it over. Her stuff doesn’t go everywhere, fortunately, but a few books and some papers do slide out. Tonks sighs and goes to shove everything back in when a piece of paper catches her eye.

Harry’s flier. She hasn’t really thought about the club meeting, too busy with classes and trying to get sleep when she can actually relax, but she remembers now that she mentioned she would try to stop by. It might be a good idea, she thinks, noticing that the meeting is the next day. She’s been feeling like she isn’t doing enough to figure out her future plans, and this could be a good start. She closes her bag and pushes it to the back of her mind for now. There is still plenty of time to make a decision about it.

—-

Tonks only has one class without any of her roommates. Although the school is a decent size, there are almost a hundred other students in her year, most of the first years are expected to take classes from the same small pool. It’s nice, having the same smallish group of people who she spends most of her day with. At the end of each day, though, she spends her time (mostly alone) in the school’s small hangar.

Peaceful Beginnings doesn’t really specialize in spaceship engineering. That’s one of the reasons she chose it over Jiiania Myl Prep, where her parents wanted her to go. Tonks likes ships, both building them and flying them, but it isn’t what she wants to do. She’s seen what that life is like. Both her parents are engineers near the top of the field. Her mother invented the navigation system that most small exploratory vehicles use and her father specializes in environment shielding. They are both smart and experienced enough that they can choose what jobs they take and where they go, but it’s still a stressful and nomadic life, with long hours of travel and work. Tonks doesn’t want that for herself. She wants to stay settled in one place, with friends and a family and a garden and, most of all, sunlight. The difficulty she’s had adjusting to this more sedentary life just makes her more stubbornly determined to make it her own.

Her parents are supportive, but she knows they hope that this desire to be different is a phase. Engineering is both of their lives, both literally and intellectually. From what little she’s been able to get out of her mother about her past, she gave up a lot to be able to pursue her chosen field. And, well, her father had two engineers for parents, too. They died when he was fairly young, and he’s always seen his job as a way of honoring them, and staying close to them.

It’s a lot of pressure.

This class was their compromise. Tonks gets to go to Peaceful Beginnings and study whatever she wants, but she also has to independently study under the school’s resident mechanic/pilot, Professor Moody.

She isn’t entirely sure what to expect from Professor Moody; she still hasn’t met the man. Tonks got a terse message a couple days before school started saying that the professor would be off-planet for the beginning of the year and that Tonks should “use the opportunity,” whatever that means. He hadn’t included any more details than that. She probably should have done some research or swung by the hangar again, but she mostly used the extra time to nap before her roommates returned home for the day. As memorable as her first trip was, it turns out it did not translate into remembering exactly how to get there in a timely fashion.

“Are you Tonks?” someone says, the second Tonks sets foot inside the hangar.

“Yes,” Tonks says, voice pitching up unintentionally. She’s so used to correcting professors who call her Nymphadora that she’s slightly taken aback. Additionally, the professor looks…somewhat different than she expected. He’s got loads of scars and a chunk missing from his nose (not terribly unusual for someone who works with dangerous machinery for a living, but still eye-catching), and has a wooden leg carved into a claw-like foot instead of a more ordinary robotic prosthetic. His grease-stained coveralls and the bandana tying back a large quantity of grey grizzled hair are to be expected, but what most startles Tonks is his eye.

It’s an incredibly complex piece of machinery, she can see just from a glance. She guesses he must have built it himself, because she’s never seen anything like it. Before she can examine it any more closely, Professor Moody barks at her.

“You sound confused about who you are. Confused and late, not off to a great start.”

“Oh, sorry,” Tonks says, still a bit distracted. “I got lost on the way here and-”

“Don’t be late again.” The man turns and starts walking away. Tonks scrambles to follow. “I’m Professor Moody, by the way. See, no confusion. How much experience do you have with P-Class ships.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

“Some repair experience, no construction or piloting.”

“Good. Repair will be enough for now. Here’s your new project.” Professor Moody stops in front of a massive P-Class cruise ship. “Tools are over on that wall and they’re accessed by standard voice commands. Your key is 29489. Put them away when you’re done, and don’t bother me unless there’s massive blood loss.”

“Right, will do,” Tonks says. “Did you make that?” Tonks asks, pointing at the eye. Moody stares at her, unblinking. “It’s really cool,” Tonks says hastily. “I’ve never seen anything like it. What does it do?”

“Get the ship running by the end of next month,” Moody says, stomping back into the hangar.

“Yes, Professor Moody,” Tonks says to the teacher’s retreating back, in what her mother would call a ‘cheeky tone’. Hopefully she can get a closer look at that eye later. She keys her code into her communicator before she forgets it. Then, she goes to check out the ship.

It’s not in terrible shape, but it’s nowhere near ready to fly. Even without doing a complete inventory, Tonks can see that the shields have taken heavy asteroid damage and the landing gear is old and worn. She isn’t sure if Professor Moody will allow her to completely replace it with a newer model or if she’ll have to make due with the parts already on the ship. She’s guessing he’s more of ‘use what you have, there’s no mega mart in space’ engineer than a ‘latest and greatest only’ engineer.

The landing gear will be okay for the occasional circuit around the planet but the ship won’t be able to fulfill its original purpose of transporting large numbers of passengers without a major overhaul. Tonks lowers the ramp. It drops to the ground smoothly and silently, and she notes with relief that the ship doesn’t have one of those horrible jolting button-drops and it isn’t so ancient that the ramp needs to be cranked down manually.

The inside is a mixed bag. The seating area is in fairly good condition and the repairs there are mostly cosmetic. Tonks doesn’t really see Professor Moody caring about the ship looking like new, so she figures she can leave the seats alone. The cockpit is in excellent shape with one mildly horrifying exception; an entire control panel has been ripped out of the wall. It’s still in the ship, fortunately, but it’s heavily dented and it wasn’t removed properly so it will definitely have to be rewired.

The door seals all seem to be intact and the cargo bay is clean and empty, so overall it’s not even close to the most difficult job Tonks has attempted. Of course, she usually has at least one of her parents or a junior engineer on hand to answer questions, and an unlimited repair budget. Doing a job like this on her own for the first time should be interesting, to say the least.


	7. Home Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's definitely a cult

The first time the sirens go off, Tonks has no idea what’s going on. She’s on her way back to the dorms from the hangar and so barely anyone is around. There are a couple first years looking around in a panic, but most people look bored so she doesn’t think it’s anything too serious. Still, sirens are generally not a good sign. Everyone except her seems to know what’s going on and before she knows it the quad is completely deserted. She’s contemplating stepping into a random building when someone taps her on the shoulder. Tonks whirls around nervously, but it’s only Harry.

“Do you know where you’re supposed to go?” he asks, voice calm.

“No. What’s going on?”

“Asteroid,” Harry says. “We get small ones a lot on this planet.” Tonks blanches. She grew up on spaceships, after all. She has a healthy fear of asteroids. Harry points toward a building. “There’s a shelter in there. You learn where they are after a while, and we have drills a lot.”

“Thanks,” Tonks says, gratefully.

“No problem. They generally try to have a drill before the first one hits, but this year it got pushed back because the safety instructor’s ship was having issues. Unfortunately, asteroids wait for no one.” Tonks pushes the door open and starts heading for the stairs. “We go down to the basement and then there’s a sub-level accessible through the middle of the floor,” Harry continues. “Do you know your student code?”

“Yeah,” Tonks says, and Harry smiles at her.

“Good. You don’t need it to get in, but you’re supposed to enter it to indicate where you are and that you’re safe in a shelter.”

Tonks follows Harry to the basement. There’s a big circular door set right in the middle of the floor. It’s mostly metal, but there’s a number pad taking up part of one side and a screen that lists everyone who has entered their code and how close the shelter is to capacity. Harry enters his code and then steps aside for Tonks to do the same. Harry shows her the button to push to unlatch the door, and it swings open easily under Tonks’ hand with the sound of a seal releasing and a rush of air.

A flight of stairs leads down into a dim hallway. There are emergency lights running along the edge of the stairs and the top of the hallway, but they aren’t very bright and Tonks can’t see very far ahead.

“Which one?” Tonks asks, pointing to the five doors opening off of the hallway.

“First one,” Harry points. “They’re split up by year. I’m in four, but I’ll see you after they sound the all clear?” Tonks nods and fights the urge to trail after Harry like a baby duckling. She’s safe in the shelter; there’s no more danger and it’s not like Harry could do much to stop an asteroid anyway. Tonks shoots Harry a falsely brave smile and waves as he makes his way down the hall.

There’s another touchscreen by the first door, but it just has a simple button to make it slide open. There are seven other people inside, but the room is large enough that it isn’t too claustrophobic. Tonks doesn’t really have an issue with small spaces, she’s far too used to them from spending most of her life on various ships, but it’s still nice to be able to stretch her legs out.

Four of the students smile at her nervously but don’t say anything, and Tonks assumes they are also anxious first years who don’t really know what’s going on. The kind of weird thing is, she’s fairly sure the other three are older. Their uniforms are sloppier and they look bored. One of them is lazily drawing on another’s hand and the third is napping against the wall. Maybe Harry got it wrong? Tonks guesses it’s possible that some shelters are sorted by year and some aren’t.

“Are you a first year, too?” one of the girls pipes up. Tonks nods. “None of us were sure where to go. I hope everyone is safe.”

“The sirens usually go off about thirty minutes ahead of time, and they do a flyover to check that no one is outside,” one of the older students says without opening her eyes.

“That’s good,” Tonks says, internally groaning. It’s good that they give everyone so much warning, but thirty minutes? How long are they going to be stuck here? She contemplates going to the other room so she’ll at least have Harry to talk to, but doesn’t want to seem rude or desperate. She hates being bored. “So,” she asks, straightening her back, “what are all of your names?”

—-

Fleur is sitting bolt upright on the edge of her bed when Tonks comes in from brushing her teeth. She has an excited flush high on her cheeks, and her eyes a bright and focused. Tonks smiles and then pretends to be looking for something in her drawer so she doesn’t stare.

“Did you get this message?” Fleur asks.

“Which one?” Tonks yawns and starts climbing the ladder, flopping exhaustedly into bed as soon as she gets to the top. She’s hoping she’s been running on little enough sleep for long enough that she’ll actually get some rest tonight. As much as the girls love waking up to fresh baked goods, Tonks can’t keep up this pace much longer. Being trapped underground and forced to make small talk for nearly an hour on barely any sleep did not help.

“The one about student government,” Fleur says, sounding more animated than Tonks has ever heard.

“I dunno,” Tonks says, popping her head over the edge of her bed. “What’s it say?” Fleur laughs and starts reading the message out loud.

_Welcome to Peaceful Beginnings! I’m your student body president, Draco Malfoy._

She gets about halfway through when Ginny comes in and interrupts.

“So you guys got that message, too? Kind of weird, right?”

“What’s weird?” Hermione pops her head around the bathroom door to ask and steps back out of sight back to finish brushing her teeth.

“Some message we all got,” Tonks calls. “The one about student government.”

“It sounds like a cult,” Ginny says confidently.

“It’s not a cult,” Fleur snaps, disgruntled. “I think it’s great that they want first years to be involved with the decisions. It’s an incredible opportunity.” Hermione snorts from the bathroom.

“I highly doubt they actually let first years do anything,” she calls.

Ginny jerks her head toward the bathroom in agreement. “They’ll probably ask you for subscription fees or something,” she says, smirking at Fleur. Tonks suppresses a sigh, too tired to deal with the Fleur and Ginny show.

“Well, going to the meeting to check it out won’t hurt. I’ll go with you, Fleur.”

“Thank you,” Fleur says emphatically, shooting Ginny a triumphant look. Tonks flops back down onto her bed and drops an arm over her eyes. Somehow her tentative plan to get more involved at school is growing legs of its own.

—-

Fleur didn’t intend to split her focus this way, but after Tonks stuck up for her with Ginny she feels like it’s only sporting to offer to go to the first Biodiversity Protection Squad meeting with Tonks.

Harry’s club meets in one of the fifth year common areas, which is a little intimidating. Fleur has this overwhelming sense that she shouldn’t be there, like she’s trespassing or something. None of the fifth years even look at them twice, and they get to the meeting room without incident. There are a few other first years awkwardly standing in the back, but most of the club members are draped over the furniture and chatting to each other. Most annoyingly, Ginny’s awful brother is there, talking to Harry no less. _Hopefully we can sit in the back_ , Fleur thinks. She is about to suggest this very thing when Harry spots them.

“Tonks!” He practically yells across the room. Literally everyone turns to look at them and Fleur rolls her eyes. _So much for that idea_. Harry rushes over, taking Tonks’ hand. “I’m so glad you made it,” he beams.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Tonks says, apparently surprised at the warm reception. “This is my roommate, Fleur,” she tacks on awkwardly. Harry smiles at her politely, but it’s clear that he’s far less excited to have Fleur there. _Good,_ Fleur thinks. _All the more reason for me not to come back._

“We were just about to start,” Harry says. “Why don’t you come sit up front?” He glances around for an empty seat, and two second years rapidly vacate their couch, hurrying to the back of the room with the new members. Harry beams and ushers Tonks and Fleur toward the now available seat.

Tonks looks slightly uncomfortable with being singled out, so Fleur reluctantly reins in her rampant annoyance to give her a smile and reassuring squeeze to the elbow.

“Welcome to the first meeting of the Biodiversity Protection Squad!” Harry says from his position at the front of the room. “I’m Harry, the club president. BPS is only a few years old but is one of the most active and influential clubs on campus. Obviously, we focus mostly on raising awareness for protected species and training our members and others on how to interact with them, but we also campaign for better protective regulations. You are all here because you are intelligent young people who are passionate about ecological preservation and social change, and I’m so proud of you for taking this first step.” Harry looks around the room, lit up with purpose and excitement. “One of our goals this year is to expand our membership and make a larger difference schoolwide.”

He keeps talking, detailing specific goals that the club met the year before and what their plans are for this year, but Fleur tunes him out. She has a, perhaps largely unfounded, bias against Harry and doesn’t really feel like listening to him monologue. Fleur is glad the older boy has apparently taken Tonks under his wing. Well, she knows that she _should_ be glad, at least. Mostly she feels annoyed and left out. Student council fits in better with her plans than BPS, anyway.

“So please add your name and communicator handle to the sign-up sheet to start receiving our members only messages,” Harry concludes. One of the girls sitting at the front of the room stands up and starts passing a piece of paper around. “I’ll be up here answering questions for the next few minutes, as will our VP Ron.” Harry indicates Ginny’s brother, who gives an awkward wave.

Fleur grits her teeth and pointedly doesn’t add her name to the sign-up sheet. Tonks gives her a questioning look as she jots her own name down. Fleur just shrugs.

“I should probably say hi to Harry before we go?” Tonks whispers questioningly.

 _Do you have to?_ Fleur thinks, but she nods and tries for an understanding smile.

Fleur feels slightly like a scolded child waiting for her mother to finish talking to a friend, sitting on the couch by herself while Tonks and Harry chat. Several other new members hover awkwardly around the edge of the conversation, clearly eager to be included. Harry gives them just enough attention to make them stick around while still mainly focusing on Tonks. Fleur would admire his technique if she wasn’t so annoyed.

A few feet away, Ron is talking to two girls. Fleur recognizes one of them as Padma’s twin, Parvati, although they’ve never officially met. She vaguely thinks the other girl is one of the twins’ roommates. Parvati looks approximately as thrilled with this conversation as Fleur feels, but the other girl is giggling and smiling up at Ron as if he’s the most interesting person in the room. Fleur is vaguely contemplating going over there to interrupt when someone speaks at her elbow.

“Hey.” Fleur’s spine automatically straightens as she turns to look at the intruder. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Fleur says. Her tone is cold, but the boy doesn’t seem particularly put off. He gives her a small smile and holds out a hand.

“I'm Victor. Welcome to BPS.”

Fleur relaxes slightly when Victor sits a respectful distance away and keeps his eyes on her face. Although she isn’t terribly interested in small talk, at least he doesn’t seem like he’s going to ask her out or stare at her. She doesn’t make an excuse to prolong the conversation when Tonks breaks away from Harry a moment later, though.

“My roommate’s ready to go,” Fleur says, standing.

“Oh,” Victor says, standing as well. “I hope you both enjoyed the meeting,” he adds, as Tonks comes over.

“It was brilliant,” Tonks says, grinning. Victor gives her a polite smile, then he makes a strange little almost-bow and wanders off.

They leave, and Fleur listens to Tonks gush about how sweet and friendly Harry is and how wonderful BPS turned out to be with gritted teeth. She’s absolutely determined to never go back again. Unfortunately, this proves more complicated than she thought it would be.

BPS becomes something of a sore subject between Fleur and Tonks, although more in the vein of awkward silences than outright arguments. They go to the first student council meeting, which is both much bigger and less eventful. Fleur tries not to feel resentful that Tonks is already being singled out in her chosen club and Fleur is basically a nobody in hers. It isn’t Tonks’ fault; she is fascinating and talented and she deserves the recognition. Fleur will just have to try harder, that’s all.

By unspoken agreement, neither of them attend the other’s club meetings after the first time. To Fleur’s utter horror, Ginny shows up at the second student council meeting of the year. She walks out before the end (garnering several scandalized looks) and doesn’t bring it up or come to the third meeting, so Fleur tentatively writes it off as a fluke.

She and Tonks have their morning classes together, and their court fashion project takes up a sizeable amount of study time. They spend most of their evenings together, with Hermione and Ginny frequently rounding out the group. It’s fine that this is something they don’t share, Fleur tells herself firmly. It doesn’t mean Tonks doesn’t like her or want to be friends. It’s fine.

“I thought we could try that recipe you were talking about last week, the one your father used to make?” Fleur opens her mouth to respond but Tonks cuts her off. “I know you said it was a lot of work, but I can help.” Tonks looks hopeful and a little nervous, and Fleur realizes with a confused twist of feelings in her stomach that this is an overture.

“That sounds good,” she says, simply.

“What is it?” Ginny asks, curiously.

“A surprise,” Tonks teases, turning to the cabinets to start rummaging through them.

“As long as I get to eat it,” Ginny says. Tonks laughs, and even Fleur smiles a little. Hermione, busy doing homework on the couch, doesn’t say anything. Fleur and Tonks start laying out ingredients. Ginny, never capable of being idle for long, wanders over to Hermione. She looks down at the other girl for a moment, and then plops down heavily on the couch with a sigh. Hermione wordlessly rebalances her communicator and keeps working. Ginny sighs again, poking Hermione.

“Hmm,” Hermione says vaguely.

“When is that essay due?” Ginny asks.

“In two weeks, but-” Ginny snatches Hermione’s communicator away and Hermione looks at her indignantly. Ginny smirks.

“Finally, I was starting to feel ignored.”

Hermione opens her mouth, frowning indignantly, and then abruptly bursts out laughing. “I can honestly say you’re impossible to ignore, Ginny.”

“Thank you,” Ginny grins. “Come on, you said you’d practice that dance with me.”

“After I finish my essay.”

“Mmm, nope,” Ginny says, hopping up. Hermione gives her an unimpressed look. “Come on,” Ginny coaxes. “Plus, it’s really helping me with homework. It’s for a class, you know, and our presentation is in three days. That’s loads sooner than two weeks,” she adds, on a burst of inspiration. Hermione narrows her eyes, but sighs and gets up.

“Fine. I don’t see why you can’t just practice with Tonks, though.”

“I’m cooking,” Tonks calls cheerfully. “Anyway, you need a break from studying.”

Hermione doesn’t look like she agrees with this assessment, but she helps Ginny move the coffee table out of the way and follows her through the basic steps of the dance.

“What is this for?” Fleur asks, trying to look as if she’s very focused on whisking. Why the fuck are Ginny and Tonks dancing together?

“Oh, our athletics class,” Tonks says absentmindedly, wrinkling her nose as she tries to thinly slice some vegetables.

“A dance?” Fleur asks skeptically. “Which one?”

“It’s called the ormandl,” Tonks says. “Our teacher is trying to be hip, I think.”

“Oh I’ve heard about that,” Fleur says. “It’s really popular in Meria right now. Isn’t it a water dance, though?”

“Apparently someone got commissioned by the Neiraen Consul to translate it onto land,” Hermione says, perking up slightly at the opportunity to make this distraction more educational. “It’s supposed to help boost interest in their system or something.”

“And I’m going to learn it first and teach everyone else,” Ginny says, with relish. Fleur rolls her eyes. It’s hard to muster up much annoyance, though. She and Tonks are warm and cozy in the kitchen and Hermione is laughing at Ginny’s increasingly ostentatious steps and it all feels very…homey.

“What kind of meat does your dad usually add?” Tonks asks, and Fleur refocuses on the task at hand.

The afternoon slides into a comfortable evening. Hermione puts her homework away and attempts to learn the complicated steps to the ormandl in their tiny living room. Ginny and Hermione’s shrieks of laughter as they tumble around and into each other accompany the quiet chopping and simmering noises coming from the kitchen, and the apartment slowly fills with the comforting smell of home-cooked palinia stew.

 _We’re good,_ Fleur thinks. _This is good._


	8. Hurdles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens

Harry comes up to Tonks as a BPS meeting is breaking up.

“Are you free right now?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Would you like to go get some tea?”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Tonks says. It’s flattering, having a fourth year show special interest in her. Tonks isn’t really sure why, maybe Harry does this with all the new club members.

Harry strides out of the meeting confidently enough, but once they’re walking he starts looking a bit furtive. He walks quickly, not quite looking over at Tonks. She frowns a little, but follows. Maybe his discomfort is just in her imagination?

They head away from campus and toward the nearby town. Harry doesn’t say anything for a few moments and Tonks trails behind him quietly. She’s trying to work up the nerve to say something when Harry turns around and beckons her.

“You’re all the way back there!” Tonks smiles a little awkwardly and moves forward. “This cafe is a bit out of the way, I know, but they have totally amazing pastries,” Harry says. He’s definitely relaxed and smiling now, so Tonks shrugs off her earlier uneasiness.

“I don’t mind the walk,” she says. “It’s so nice this time of year.”

“It really is,” Harry says, sighing happily. “What do you think of the club so far? Everyone being nice?”

“Yeah, everyone is super friendly.”

“It’s still early in the year,” Harry says. “We have some big projects coming up soon.”

“That’s good,” Tonks replies, a little confusedly. The way Harry phrased it sounded like that meant people would no longer be so friendly, but surely that wasn’t what he meant?

“Here we are,” Harry says, breaking into Tonks’ thoughts. “Get whatever you want, my treat.”

“Oh you don’t have to-”

“I insist! Anything for my favorite new recruit,” Harry says, giving her a jaunty smile.

“Um. I’ll have one of the pomea pastries and a tea?”

“Great choice. I’ll go put our order in, why don’t you find us a table?”

The cafe is mostly empty, a few middle aged couples are clustered near the windows and one stressed looking young mother is attempting to talk her toddler out of continuing to throw her spoon on the ground. Tonks picks a table toward the middle and settles in to wait.

Harry walks over with their teas and pastries balanced on a tray a few moments later, setting Tonks’ down in front of her with a flourish.

“Enjoy!” He says cheerfully, before setting the tray on the table next to them and sliding into the seat across from Tonks.

Harry doesn’t say anything for a bit after that, blowing on his tea to cool it and letting Tonks start in on her pastry. After a moment of silence, though, he looks across the table contemplatively.

“So,” Harry says, pausing to take a sip of tea, “I hear you’re studying under Professor Moody.”

“Yeah, I am.” Tonks doesn’t want to be rude, but she also isn’t particularly eager to discuss this.

“Cool. Are you specializing in engineering?”

“No, they don’t really have that here. My parents just wanted me to keep up with my previous studies.” Harry nods sympathetically and Tonks amends her statement. “Well, that sounds like they’re forcing me into it or something. I like engineering; I think it’s a fun challenge and can be a very rewarding field. It just isn’t really for me.”

“That makes total sense,” Harry says. “Still, you must be pretty good at it for Moody to take you on. He can be a bit prickly with people he doesn’t think are worth his time.”

Tonks snorts. “A bit prickly is an understatement,” she mutters. Harry smiles. “But yeah, I was lucky enough to have good teachers and a lot of time with complex ships.” She doesn’t see the point of false modesty; she is good. Not the best, she doesn’t want it or work hard enough for that, but highly competent for her age and experience.

“That’s awesome. I don’t really know anyone who’s good with machines. Most of my friends and I specialize in language and culture. We do have a couple who are learning navigation but that’s not quite the same thing.” Tonks nods, even though she doesn’t really see where this is going. Harry is staring at her more intently than the conversation seems to actually warrant, and she’s starting to feel oddly like this is some kind of job interview. Just as it starts to get uncomfortable, though, Harry smiles and sits back. “How is your first term going?”

“It’s good,” Tonks says cautiously. Is this some sort of conversational pop quiz? She starts casting around for something impressive or interesting to say, but Harry’s attention suddenly darts away from her to the windows of the cafe. His eyes narrow in annoyance, or maybe even anger, and he gulps the rest of his still hot tea quickly.

“I’m so sorry to cut this short, but something has come up,” Harry says.

“What?”

“Please enjoy the rest of your day, Tonks. I’ll see you soon.”

“You, too?” Tonks calls after him. Harry is already halfway out the door and doesn’t respond. Tonks lets herself relax back into her chair, bewildered and feeling like she’s missed something.

Through the window, she thinks she sees Harry grab someone’s elbow and steer them away from the cafe, but she can’t be sure.

Her sense of weirdness is only compounded when she walks into the apartment to hear shouting abruptly cut off. She hadn’t expected anyone to be there. Hermione and Fleur are supposed to be having a language study session in Padma’s rooms, and Ginny had vaguely mentioned plans.

Ginny is definitely there, though. She’s standing by the window with her arms folded, looking absolutely furious. Ron, looking equally angry, is standing a few feet away and clenching a muscle in his jaw.

“Er, sorry,” Tonks says hesitantly. “I was just going to grab-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ginny says coldly. “Ron was just leaving.”

Ron shoots Ginny a meaningful look but doesn’t contradict her.

“See you,” he mutters to Tonks, wrenching the door open and stomping down the stairs.

_What is wrong with everyone today?_ Tonks wonders, as Ginny gives her a tight smile and then starts lacing up her shoes.

“I’m going for a run,” she says brusquely.

“Okay,” Tonks says, to the slam of the apartment door. Maybe she’ll just go to bed early. She’s too tired for this.

—-

Tonks jolts awake as she feels her body drop, automatically tucking her head under her arms and bracing for impact before she’s even fully awake. At first, she thinks she must have somehow rolled off her bunk due to sudden gravitational shifts. Then she remembers she’s not in space and frowns, opening her eyes. It’s dark and quiet around her, but something feels off. Before her tired brain can figure out what it is, though, someone turns on a light and shines it in her face.

“Start walking,” the person holding the light says. “We’re going to be late.”

“What?” Tonks asks, confused. Two girls grab her elbows and start marching her down the sidewalk. Now that the light isn’t in her eyes anymore, she can see that they’re outside the first year dorms. She can’t make out either of the girls very clearly since they are walking right next to her and the flashlight is pointing forward, but she thinks she recognizes both of them from BPS meetings. That isn’t terribly comforting, though, since it doesn’t explain how she got out of her dorm or where they are taking her.

Neither of them seem eager to explain anything, keeping her pinned between them as they pass out of the first year quad and head toward what Tonks thinks is the fifth year buildings.

“Where are we going?” she tries again. No answer.

Once they clear the treeline and are actually inside of the fifth year quad, though, Tonks starts to see other little lights. She counts at least four other bobbing flashlights converging toward one point at the back of the clearing, but can’t get a good look at who’s holding them. She’s finally released when they get to the end of the quad, pushed into a line with five other first years who look just as confused and nervous as she is.

“Do you know what’s going on?” her neighbor whispers to her. Before Tonks can answer, all the flashlights turn off and a voice starts speaking.

“Welcome, new recruits,” the voice says. Tonks can’t be certain, she’s only heard him talk intermittently at meetings, but she is fairly sure it’s Victor, one of the BPS officers.

“What do you want with us?” someone asks, tremulously. Laughter echoes around them, but no one answers. Tonks shivers a little, pressing into the girl next to her more closely. A light snaps on, directly under Ron’s face this time.

“Your first task is to find your way back to campus before homeroom tomorrow morning, without being detected. Good luck, little ones.” Ron switches his flashlight off, fading back behind the other older members as they come forward, lights raised. One of the girls who grabbed Tonks from her dorm comes right up to her, and Tonks tries one last time.

“What is this?” she asks, trying to sound braver than she feels.

“Initiation,” the girl says, smiling wolfishly. That’s all the warning Tonks gets before being plunged back into darkness.

From what she can gather with a blindfold tied tightly across her eyes, they’re being moved into a vehicle of some sort. She has no idea how Ron and Victor managed that. As far as she knows, the only ground transport on campus are the Peaceful Beginnings buses. Those are all robotically operated and programmed to shut down at certain times, though. Plus they’re kept locked up in a garage at the other end of campus during nighttime. Tonks knows, because the bus terminal is right next to the hangar.

However the older students managed it, they do seem to be driving somewhere. Tonks can’t imagine how they’re going to be expected to actually find their way back when most of them haven’t ever been off campus. She supposes there is the possible exception of the one or two first years at Peaceful Beginnings who are from the same world the school is located on. The likelihood that one of them is in BPS as a new recruit seems low, so Tonks doesn’t want to rely on it. She tries to keep track of which way the bus is turning, counting rights and lefts and trying to track minutes, but it quickly becomes impossible. They’ve been driving for long enough that her legs are starting to cramp in the too-small seats and she resigns herself to starting from scratch whenever they are finally dropped off.

The bus stops with a sudden jolt and Tonks nearly shoots forward and off the seat. She’s too tense to fall, though, so she just sways for a moment and then attempts to stand up. Whoever is next to her on the bus seat grabs her elbow to steady her and Tonks fights the urge to shrug them off. She isn’t totally sure it’s one of the girls who grabbed her from her dorm, and if it’s another first year she doesn’t want to alienate them. They’re going to have to work together to find their way back, after all.

Tonks worries a little about falling down the stairs as she gets of the bus, going down is much harder than going up, but they’re packed so closely together that the others are basically holding her upright. Her neighbor from the bus is still clutching her hand and the grip is so tight that Tonks is fairly sure, now, that it’s a first year. Someone else seizes her elbow and starts pulling her along, and Tonks tries to follow without letting go of the other recruit.

They walk for a while. The occasional street lamp had lit up the interior of the bus brightly enough that it flashed through her blindfold, but now that they’re off the bus there is just a steady dimness. It’s not just the light that’s changing, the ground is different, too. It’s getting softer and more uneven. After Tonks nearly faceplants tripping over what she thinks is a tree root, she becomes convinced that they are in some kind of woodland. If the increasingly hitched and terrified breathing of the person next to her is any indication, they’ve come to the same conclusion.

_How the hell did we get into a forest?_ Tonks wonders, starting to well and truly panic. How far from campus are they? Is it even possible to walk all the way back in the time they have?

Abruptly, the person leading Tonks stops. This becomes very obvious when Tonks crashes into them and nearly sends both of them tumbling to the ground. Her leader snorts in annoyance and yanks her blindfold off, none too gently. Tonks winces and rubs where it’s pulled a few strands of hair out. The other person they’ve been walking with is squinting and rubbing her eyes, trying to adjust to being able to see again.

“Good luck,” their leader singsongs, before disappearing into the trees. The other older girls quickly follow before the new recruits can even get their bearings. Tonks is left standing with her seatmate and four other first years.

“Well,” one of them says, huffing out a breath. “I can honestly say this is not how I expected to spend my night.” They all laugh even though it isn’t that funny. _It’s that or start crying,_ Tonks thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the missed week/delayed update! I was traveling without my laptop last week. Possibly there will be another chap posted this weekend, depending on beta stuff. If not, on Wednesday as usual!


	9. Finish Line

Now that she has a minute to actually look, she sees that the other four are indeed first years from BPS. She vaguely recognizes Lavender from the meetings, and has at least exchanged a few words with Parvati and Padma. Her mysterious seatmate is a boy she thinks might be called Neville, and there’s another boy she thinks is named Ernie.

“What are we going to do?” Neville asks, eyes darting around the dark clearing nervously. He’s clearly trying to maintain some semblance of calm, but it isn’t working very well.

“Did anyone keep track of the turns? I tried but I lost count,” Padma says.

“Same,” Tonks replies. “I’ve never really been off campus either.” She looks at the others one by one, but they all shake their heads. No one knows where they are or how they got there.

“I’m guessing no one has a communicator or anything?” Parvati asks. Communicators are very light and not terribly big, but they aren’t very comfortable to sleep with and most people plug them in to charge at night anyway. The first years all shake their head, confirming Parvati’s suspicion.

“If it were daytime we could use the sun to get out,” Padma says thoughtfully, “but we can’t wait if we have to be back by homeroom.”

“I know a little about the stars,” Neville volunteers, voice hesitant. “I don’t think it would be much help here, though. Most of what I know is only actually relevant to my home planet. I haven’t had time to learn the way things move here.” Tonks bites her lip and squeezes Neville’s elbow reassuringly. They’re all on the same ship right now, and steering together is probably the smartest way to go.

Ernie doesn’t seem to agree. “That’s not very helpful then, is it,” he mutters. “Let’s just start walking.” He starts heading out of the clearing and Padma frowns.

“We could be going the wrong way, though.”

“Well we can’t just stand here doing nothing!” The two glare at each other across the clearing.

“I think we should definitely try to get out of the forest first,” Parvati says heaving a sigh. “Once we’re on the streets, we can at least tell more easily if we’re going in the right direction.” They all agree to this, at least.

“We could just pick a direction and stick with it for a bit?” Lavender says uncertainly.

Padma doesn’t look thrilled with this plan, but she finds a sharp stick and decides to mark the trees occasionally so that if they need to turn around, they won’t go in circles.

The ground is fairly level, and Tonks starts to relax slightly once they start moving. They weren’t walking for long enough to be too deep into the trees, and she doubts there is an extensive forest this close to the school. They must just be in a small preserve, or something. With Ernie taking the lead and Padma falling back to mark the trees, the others just have not tripping over exposed tree roots to focus on.

Neville is staring a bit fixedly at the ground as if he’s afraid a tree will come out of nowhere, so Lavender and Parvati fall back to walk with Tonks.

“Did you know this was coming?” Parvati asks. She doesn’t say it in a rude or accusatory way, but Tonks gets the feeling it isn’t really a rhetorical question either.

“No,” she says, speaking quietly so not to draw the attention of any of the others. She doesn’t want this to be A Thing. “Why would I?” Parvati shrugs.

“You’re Harry’s favorite,” Lavender says, a little petulantly. “We thought he might have warned you.” She must see Tonks bristle slightly, because she raises her hands in apology. “Hey, we were was just curious.”

“We don’t really know each other that well,” Parvati adds. Tonks assumes she must mean Tonks doesn’t know either of them that well. Lavender and Parvati definitely seem like they’re on the same page. Tonks briefly wishes Fleur were here, or Ginny or Hermione. “I wouldn’t be offended if you hadn’t warned the rest of us.”

“I would have,” Tonks says firmly. “I don’t like this. We could get in serious trouble if we don’t get back to campus in time, and all over a stupid club.” Parvati raises an eyebrow at her tone, but her posture relaxes slightly. Lavender, though, bristles.

“If you think it’s such a stupid club, you’re welcome to leave.”

Tonks sighs. “I didn’t mean-” She’s cut off, though, by Ernie sighing loudly and stopping.

“Shouldn’t we have hit the edge of the forest by now?”

“You’re the one who picked this direction,” Padma mutters. Ernie glares at her, but she seems too focused on slashing an x into tree bark to pay him any mind.

“Should we try another way?” Parvati asks.

“I think the trees are getting a bit thinner,” Tonks says doubtfully. They all look at each other for a moment.

“Let’s go a bit farther,” Padma says.

An awkward silence settles over the group as they keep walking. Tonks, who is finding all the suppressed irritation and anxiety stressful, breaks it after a few moments.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks, raising her voice slightly so it’s clear she’s addressing the whole group. Walking in a straight line doesn’t take much concentration, and some distracting speculation might help everyone stay calm.

“It does seem weird,” Padma says from behind them. ”I didn’t get the impression that the club was that selective.”

“Well,” Neville says. “I don’t know about that. My friend came with me to the first meeting and she said she didn’t want to come back because it seemed too clique-y.”

“With the older students, sure,” Lavender argues. “Isn’t that what all the clubs are like, though?”

“I guess,” Parvati says slowly, looking over at Tonks again. “How many of you did Harry specifically ask to join?” Tonks sighs and raises her hand, slightly surprised when Neville and Padma do as well.

“Ron asked me,” Lavender says, looking rather proud. Parvati frowns but mutters that Ron had asked her as well.

They all look at Ernie, who shrugs. “I found the club on my own,” he says, managing to make it sound like bragging.

“Look where you’re going,” Padma says mildly. Ernie glares at her again but turns back to the front.

“So for the most part, we were all recruited specifically,” Lavender muses. Ernie makes to turn around again, looking angry.

“Well we’re all here, aren’t we? Tonks says, in the interest of preventing an argument when they are literally lost in the middle of nowhere. “The other first years at the first few meetings aren’t, though.” She thinks of Fleur’s needling comments about the exclusivity of BPS and sort of regrets not listening to her a bit more.

Neville nods thoughtfully. “I know Luna, my friend who I mentioned, felt like the older students weren’t very welcoming to her.”

“A few of the first I talked to at the first meeting didn’t come back,” Parvati adds. Lavender frowns, and Tonks cuts in quickly.

“It looks like this group is intentional, for whatever reason,” she says. “Wait,” her voice sharpens, “I think that’s the edge of the trees.” They all speed up a little, moving fast and not bothering to mark their path now that the end is in sight.

The six of them spill out of the forest, looking around eagerly to see if they recognize anything. As far as Tonks can tell, they’re in some kind of residential area. There’s a small park right in front of them, but she can see houses and broad, paved roads beyond it.

“At least this is something,” Padma says, bracingly. Tonks glances over to see Neville looking anxious, and Parvati and Ernie looking annoyed.

“We’ll find our way back,” Tonks says, more confidently than she feels.

“Let’s try and find a main road?” Neville suggests tentatively. They all look at him, and he expounds on his idea. “I know it’s pretty late, but there might still be some cars out. If I remember right, there isn’t a lot on this side of campus. It’s mostly houses and parks. A lot of the businesses are on the other end.”

Tonks nods slowly in agreement, remembering Harry and the cafe. “He’s right. We left from the side with the fifth year dorms, right? I mean, I guess the buses could have driven all the way around campus but I doubt they would have done that.”

“Easier to spot,” Padma agrees. “The older students wouldn’t want to risk a teacher seeing them. This is definitely against the rules.”

“So we’re probably near the edge of town. Almost everything is on the other side of campus,” Tonks says.

“Hopefully, most people will be going in the same direction we need to be heading in,” Padma says.

“What if there isn’t anyone out?” Lavender asks, starting to sound nervous. Padma and Tonks look at each other, and Padma shrugs.

“If we get past the houses and start hitting big stretches of nothing, we’ll turn around. We need to get moving, though. I have no idea what time it is but I’m assuming it’s going to be a pretty lengthy walk, especially if we need to turn around.”

“So we just start walking?” Lavender asks, looking at Padma for confirmation. Padma nods and takes the lead. They start out just going in the direction they are already facing, but after four different cars pass them all going the opposite way, Padma stops and waits for everyone to catch up.

“I think we should turn around,” she says. Parvati looks up and around thoughtfully.

“There was a turnoff a couple blocks back that I think led to a main road,” she says.

When they get back to where Parvati remembers seeing the intersection, they go around a high fence and emerge out onto a broad thoroughfare.

“That way?” Parvati asks her twin, pointing to their left.

“Yeah. We’re parallel to the road we were on, I think. This is just bigger. It will be easier to spot the school from here, hopefully.”

They walk in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Tonks is mostly worrying that they’re going the wrong way. Padma’s reasoning sounds solid, but they’re all tired and disoriented. There is still a pretty huge chance they’re just wandering around town or that they won’t be able to walk all the way back to the school by morning. The only thing that’s comforting her is that it’s still completely dark outside, the only light coming from the occasional streetlamp and the two dim moons overhead.

Lavender and Parvati start talking quietly to each other and Neville is attempting a truly strained looking conversation with Ernie, so Tonks walks up next to Padma at the front.

“No,” Padma says, interrupting Tonks’ thoughts. “I’m not actually sure that this is the right way.” She says it quietly, glancing back at the others to make sure they aren’t listening. Tonks shakes her head.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking,” she says. Padma looks at her skeptically.

“Okay, I was thinking it,” Tonks grins, “but not at the moment. I’m actually,” she pauses. Laughs a little. “I feel like this club is a much bigger commitment than I thought I had made.” Padma grins back at her.

“Same.”

“Are we allowed to tell people, do you think?” Tonks asks, hesitantly. This feels like it’s supposed to be a secret, even as it’s happening. She’s quickly gotten used to telling Fleur pretty much everything, though. They spend so much time together that it has turned into a habit, and BPS is already an awkward source of tension between them. The last thing Tonks wants is for that to worsen. Padma peers into her face.

“I’m guessing this is a specific someone?” Tonks nods, glancing around to make sure no one is listening. She’s doesn’t really think of herself as a suspicious person, but being kidnapped and left in the middle of nowhere is making her reevaluate that. Padma seems like the most sensible person to confide in, since she’s the least distracted with nerves, or annoyance, or unrelated arguments.

“My roommate,” Tonks explains. Padma nods, thoughtful.

“It certainly makes things awkward,” she muses. “We only have one other roommate, and she was totally uninterested in BPS.” Padma frowns. Tonks feels a pulse of sympathy for the fourth roommate. Being the odd one out is never enjoyable. “Try and get her to come to a meeting,” Padma continues. “It’s a little late to join, I guess, but if she’s involved you won’t have to break secrecy.”

Tonks is about to reply, but Parvati calls quietly up to them.

“Hang on, come back here for a moment. I think I know where we are.”

After they’re huddled around her, Parvati gestures over to the building they are standing near. “Lavender and I came into town last week to pick up some art supplies and I remember passing this store.”

“You know how to get back?” Neville asks, excitement coloring his tone.

“We walked here last time,” Lavender says thoughtfully. “We must be getting close.”

They pick up the pace a little. The sky is starting to lighten and they really need to get to the fifth year quad before the sun comes up fully. If they’re spotted sneaking back onto campus...Tonks doesn’t even want to think about the consequences.

They approach campus cautiously, all sticking together to avoid being detected. Tonks glances around nervously, keeping an eye out for teachers or non-BPS fifth years who might report them. She grabs Padma’s hand so she can keep track of her without looking; the others follow them close behind. Tonks sees the treeline that marks the back end of campus and rushes toward it. They break through in a bunch, just as the sun is starting to come up.

“Nearly there,” Parvati gasps. They start moving toward the front part of campus where the building that houses their homeroom is. It’s close to their dorms, but with the sun already starting to crest the horizon they don’t really have time to stop by and get their communicators and other supplies.

“We’ll just have to go straight there,” Padma says, echoing Tonks’ thoughts. Neville looks nervous at this suggestion, but they all agree to the plan. They’re in pajamas and will probably get a few stares. It’s not entirely unheard of in homeroom, though, since missing it is punished much more strictly than inattention or uniform infractions. They’ll have a few minutes to rush back and change into uniforms before first classes properly start.

“Once we’re there and in our seats, I’ll feel better,” Parvati says. Tonks murmurs her agreement. She isn’t sure how she’s going to explain this to her roommates, or what she is possibly going to tell Fleur, but she can’t think about it for now. She just needs to get into homeroom and the safety of being where she is supposed to.

They see the building in the distance; the quad is already mostly clear, the other first years already gathered into the building and sitting in their regular seats. Padma rushes to open the door and they file in just as the teacher calls the class to attention. Tonks doesn’t look back.

By unspoken agreement, the six of them don't speak to each other, they just go to sit next to their roommates. None of them want to have to answer questions about why they are is walking with random strangers or why they didn't come to homeroom with their roommates.

Ginny and Hermione look at her strangely as she slides into their row, probably wondering why she is so late when she apparently left the dorm before any of them. Tonks slides into a seat next to Fleur, who looks confused and slightly hurt. Tonks has to ignore it. She looks forward and braces herself for the questions.

“Couldn’t sleep again?” Fleur asks, tone carefully neutral.

“Something like that,” she answers, keeping her eyes trained forward. Fortunately, their teacher actually has plans for homeroom this morning and no one can ask Tonks anything else.

“Class,” she says, interrupting Ginny who has just opened her mouth to ask who knows what, “please take out your communicators and pull up your planners.” They all comply.

Tonks is bruised and sore and can see grime caked under her nails, but she feels exhilarated. One by one, she meets the eyes of the other new recruits around the room and they nod to her, exhausted but pleased with their shared secret. She doesn’t know what is going on with BPS, or what she’s going to say with her roommates, but she did it. She finished the first challenge.


	10. The Flag

There aren’t a lot of ways for the fourth years to interact with the first years. They don’t have any classes together, or even in the same part of campus. They don’t even share a dining hall, officially. Somehow, though, Fleur sees Harry more than half her classmates. He’s just always there and he always wants to talk. Normally, she’d assume he was trying to hit on her or something, but he never makes any attempt to ask her out or even get her alone. He just seems like he really really wants her to join his stupid club. Maybe she’s the only first year who’s ever dropped out? The thought pleases her.

“Fleur!” Harry yells from across the first year quad. Fleur sighs and contemplates ducking into one of the buildings. She would blame Harry’s uncanny ability to find her on Tonks officially joining the biodiversity club, but it only happens when she’s alone. When Fleur is with Tonks or one of her other roommates, Harry is nowhere to be found.

“Hi, Harry,” Fleur says as Harry approaches.

“What’s up?” Harry asks.

“Just going to class.” Fleur keeps walking, hoping to communicate that she is in a hurry (she isn’t) and that she absolutely cannot miss Cartography (almost definitely no one would notice). Harry does not take the hint, just walks alongside her.

“Awesome. I haven’t seen you at any of our meetings yet,” Harry says, tone friendly.

“No,” Fleur says coolly. She feels like she should maybe be flattered or something. Harry completely ignored her at the first meeting, and now he’s practically stalking her to try and convince her to join. Mostly she’s just irritated and confused.

“I totally understand,” Harry says sympathetically. “You know, we have a lot of older students who are always willing to help. If you need a tutor or a study buddy or something, BPS is a great place to find one!”

“I’m sure,” Fleur says. Harry is still grinning at her, seemingly oblivious to her rudeness. She relents slightly, hoping that will make him go away faster. “I think Tonks is having a lot of fun.” Harry, if possible, looks even more cheerful and friendly.

“She’s a great asset to the club. We love our new members!” Harry beams at Fleur. “Well, this is you.” Fleur glances around in surprise. How does Harry know where her classes are? “Think about coming to a meeting, okay?” He waves and disappears before Fleur can reply.

“What the fuck,” she mutters.

Meanwhile, everyone in student government still pretty much ignores her. She’s gotten used to sitting roughly in the middle and letting everyone talk around her, vaguely hoping that her occasional comment and religious attendance of meetings will get her somewhere. It doesn’t seem to be; Fleur is fairly sure Draco couldn’t tell the difference between Fleur and a pole with a blonde wig on top.

She’s sitting in a meeting right now, but has no idea what they’re talking about, too busy brooding. Something is going on with Tonks. She still hasn’t explained why she was late to homeroom a few days ago and Fleur definitely doesn’t buy that she just randomly wanted to go for a nature walk at six bells and got lost. Tonks bakes when she can’t sleep, she doesn’t go wandering around campus. It’s against the rules, not to mention potentially dangerous. Fleur is also regretting not joining BPS, although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. She had thought student government would be better experience for her future career, but that’s dependent on them actually letting her do anything. None of them even talk to her. Meanwhile, Harry is trailing her around campus after Fleur specifically didn’t join his club because she thought there wouldn’t be anything to do. She thinks there’s at least some ironic amusement somewhere here, but is too cranky to find it.

Fleur is so busy glaring at nothing, she doesn’t notice Draco is staring at her until the meeting is nearly over. The vice president, Millicent, is speaking and Draco is sitting off to the side watching Fleur with an expression that can only be described as suspicious. Fleur feels a jolt as she finally sees the (frankly rather creepy) stare. It’s such a rapid shift from the usual complete disregard that she doesn’t know what to do. She tries a tentative smile, but Draco just narrows his eyes and looks away.

_What did I do now?_ she wonders. Maybe her face was making it obvious that she wasn’t exactly paying attention? She mentally shrugs and makes an effort to tune in to the meeting.

“Cho, Marietta, Hannah, Blaise, and Cedric, you’re in charge of refreshments,” Millicent is saying. They all nod, and Fleur realizes with an unpleasant twist in her stomach that Millicent has just named every single first year in the room, except Fleur. She tries not to let the hurt show on her face but doesn’t know how successful she is because a couple of them give her pitying looks. She carefully schools her face into a bored expression.

Fleur doesn’t absorb much of the rest of the meeting. She’s pretty much determined that she’s going to go back and grovel to Harry by the time Millicent wraps things up and dismisses them. She isn’t going to get anywhere here if they won’t even let her take care of party food. Fleur stands up and slides her stuff back into her bag, pointedly looking down and avoiding everyone’s eyes. Unfortunately, her plan of making a quick getaway is foiled by the tight cluster of people near the exit all trying to leave at once. Fleur sighs and falls back. She wants to leave, but not enough to shove her way through. Dignity, always.

Just as the jam is clearing, she feels a hand on her elbow. She glances over and then up, thinking it’s probably one of the sympathetic first years. To her utter astonishment, though, it’s Draco.

“Hey. Fleur, right?”

“Yes?” Fleur says. She doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but she’s genuinely shocked.

“Can you stay behind for a minute?” Draco asks. Fleur nods, trying to look as if this is absolutely unsurprising. What could Draco possibly want?

The room clears out until it’s just the two of them. Even Millicent and the other officers leave. Draco leans back against the desk at the front of the room, gesturing for Fleur to take one of the other chairs.

“Did you need something?” Fleur asks, tone just on the edge of politeness, when Draco doesn’t say anything for a moment. She’s not about to grovel if there isn’t some kind of indication that it will benefit her in a major way.

“How are you liking student government?” Draco asks, tone casual.

“It’s fine,” Fleur says impassively.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry we haven’t found anything for you to do, yet.”

“Oh, that’s fine. I kind of expected that most of the jobs would be taken by older students.” She puts a slight emphasis on older, and something flickers across Draco’s expression too quickly for her to see what it is.

“True,” Draco says, “but we try to save some spots for first years.”

“Refreshments and the like,” Fleur says, carefully bland.

Draco tilts his head and peers at Fleur thoughtfully. She keeps her face neutral.

“If I can assist in any way, I’m happy too,” Fleur says, after a moment of silence.

Draco’s smile is sudden, and wolfish, and Fleur feels optimistic about student government for the first time since she read that initial email.

“Excellent.”

—-

“I know you are all busily working on your yearly projects,” Professor Malkin says, tone implying that she has no such confidence in them, “but it’s time to start your first mini-project. This is an individual assignment. Although you can consult with other girls in the class, your work must all be your own.”

Tonks fights back a groan. Between classes, BPS, and trying to come up with excuses for her increasingly frequent absences from the dorm, she’s swamped. Harry hasn’t had the recruits kidnapped again, but he and the other officers are constantly messaging them random tasks. And then, there’s the flag.

Professor Malkin is already back behind her desk, and a message pops up on Tonks’ communicator with the details of their new History of Court Fashion assignment. Next to her, Fleur is already skimming to the end, and she glances up at Tonks in horror.

“Due in one week?” she mouths. Tonks blanches and rapidly turns to her screen. Once she actually reads the message, though, she relaxes slightly. She’s discovered that she has, by far, the most sewing experience of anyone in the class. Part of the reason they have so long to make one outfit is because many of the others have never even put in a hem before, let alone constructed something. The new project is mostly detail work and a little research. They are supposed to construct a miniature version of some kind of culturally significant outfit, and write two pages explaining who wore it, when, and why it was important.

“I’ll help you sew,” Tonks whispers, squeezing Fleur’s hand. Fleur looks at her gratefully. Honestly, it’s worth the extra work if it helps reduce some of the strain that’s started between her and Fleur. She isn’t entirely sure why it’s so difficult, keeping all the secret society club stuff from Fleur. Tonks doesn’t exactly love hiding stuff from Hermione and Ginny, but it doesn’t feel shady and dishonest with them in the same way it does with Fleur.

They spend so much of their time together, and Tonks is coming to rely on her more and more as a friend. She’s never been in this position before. Sure, she’s had plenty of people she’s liked and gotten along with well. She’s even somewhat used to the way close quarters and reliance on each other can foster friendship more quickly than other circumstances, although the necessity for deception is new and unpleasant. She’s never gotten attached to someone quite this quickly, though, and she’s never had the same sense of potential with anyone else. She and Fleur are going to be in the same place for five years, when Tonks is used to the expiration date on her friendships being closer to six months. The longest her parents ever stayed in one place was two years.

Perhaps it makes sense that she’s so worried this lie will mess things up with Fleur. Tonks bites her lip, thinking. As they’re walking their next classes together, she brings up Biodiversity Protection Squad.

“So,” she starts. “Have you thought any more about coming to another meeting?” Fleur glances over at her, eyebrow raised. “I mean,” Tonks clarifies, “I know you said it wasn’t really your thing. I just, I don’t know, thought you might enjoy it more now that we’re actually getting into the year?” She hopes Fleur doesn’t question this, because she doesn’t really have an explanation that she can give. Fleur sees too much, always watching when Tonks leaves at odd hours and occasionally offering to go with her. Tonks half-hopes Fleur will figure all the BPS stuff out on her own, and the situation will work itself out.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Fleur says. Tonks’ pulse leaps. “You know how I was saying I didn’t really like student government because I felt like I couldn’t do anything there?”

“Yeah,” Tonks says, trying not to smile. She knows it upset Fleur and obviously she hates that, but if Fleur decides to quit on her own that definitely makes Tonks convincing her to join BPS easier. Fleur isn’t the type who can remain idle for long.

“Well, Draco gave me a job.”

Tonks forces a smile as she feels her stomach sink. “That’s awesome! Finally.”

“Yeah,” Fleur muses, although she doesn’t look quite as happy as Tonks would expect. “It’s not very big or important or anything. He just asked me to research some of the other clubs on campus and get him a list of which ones are still active. Apparently sometimes student government has events with other clubs.”

“That sounds cool,” Tonks says. Suddenly, she has an idea. “Maybe they could work with BPS? I mean, I get the impression it’s one of the biggest clubs on campus. I feel like the two groups together could really accomplish a lot.” Fleur looks at her thoughtfully.

“That’s definitely an idea. I don’t know that Draco is quite ready to take advice from me,” she says with a wry smile.

“He should,” Tonks says stubbornly. Honestly. Fleur smiles at her, sudden and brilliant, and Tonks impulsively grabs her hand. “I’m glad you’re my bunkmate,” she says. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.” She feels a bit silly at how much she means it, swallowing around a lump in her throat.

“Same,” Fleur says, squeezing her hand and then starting to swing it back and forth a little. “Now, about those sewing lessons.”

They have passes to the school’s wardrobe and fabric stash as a part of their court fashion class, and they arrange to go by and pick up supplies that evening as soon as Tonks finishes at the hangar. Tonks picks Fleur up outside her cartography class and they pick out their fabric without incident.

They’re nearly back to the dorm that evening when Tonks feels her communicator buzz. She doesn’t look at it right away. If she pulls it out in front of Fleur, it will be obvious she’s trying to hide the message from the other girl. In case it’s from Harry, though, she needs to answer it quickly. Harry had made that one point very clear. The first years all have the same class times, so Harry knows when she absolutely cannot answer. Any other time, though, she’s supposed to respond to a check-in message within ten minutes or someone will be sent to retrieve her. Tonks doesn’t know what, exactly, that means and she isn’t eager to find out.

She excuses herself to the bathroom as soon as they get back into their room and pulls out her communicator.

_Status?_ is all it says. It’s from Harry’s personal account, not the official BPS one.

_Secure_ Tonks sends back. She waits two minutes to see if Harry responds, then deletes the message and tucks her communicator away.

“We brought xalana!” Tonks can hear Ginny saying from the living room. She and Hermione must be back, then. Tonks glances at her communicator one more time to make sure Harry hasn’t sent her anything. Then, before she can second-guess herself, she starts quickly changing into her pajamas. There is still a chance Harry might summon her out, but she thinks she should probably take the chance to do it now while the three other girls are distracted in the living room.

That’s been the hardest part of this whole thing, sneaking off to get dressed. They live in very close quarters, and any shyness about changing in front of each other vanished around day three. It’s impossible to cover the flag in just her bra and underwear, though. It’s as big as her whole torso even wrapped and tied around her, and it’s a bright enough color that she has to wear dark clothing so it doesn’t show through. One of the other girls would definitely notice if they were in the same room. She tries to comfort herself with the fact that it’s only for a few more days, but that seems like a long time to be permanently attached to a piece of fabric.

She double checks that the flag is completely covered, and then goes out into the living room to see the other girls. Maybe Fleur will start working with BPS as well as student council. Then, at least Tonks will have someone to help her run interference.

If not, well, she doesn’t know how much longer she can keep going like this.


	11. Not an Effective Way to Read a List

Fleur brings her list to the next student government meeting. It took forever to finish it, but the wide grin Draco gives her when Fleur comes into the room and hands him the file drive makes it almost worth it.

_If it helps you get a spot on the council, it will all be worth it_ , her mother’s stern voice says in her head.

The meeting is a short one, and Draco once again comes up to Fleur as everyone is leaving.

“You have the list?” he asks. Fleur nods. “Great,” Draco looks happier than she’s ever seen him. “Why don’t we go upstairs and you can go over it with me? We still have Percy, our president from last year’s, old room as a sort of officer meeting place.”

“All right,” Fleur says. Draco leads her out of the downstairs meeting room and up several winding staircases to the top floor. The fifth year buildings are all sort of haphazard, architecturally. Whereas Fleur’s dorm is boxy and utilitarian on the outside, the fifth year dorms are confusing mazes of meeting rooms and bedrooms, with staircases in odd places and the occasional door opening onto a sheer drop. She’s glad Draco is there to lead her around or she thinks she probably would have gotten lost. As cool as the building looks from the outside, tall on one side and slouched and leaning on the other, it is incredibly difficult to navigate.

Fleur is fairly certain the room they end up in is on the third floor; they’ve gone up five short staircases and down two. Draco ushers her into the room, and Fleur is too busy looking around to notice that he positions himself carefully between Fleur and the door.

It’s a single bedroom, although the bed has been replaced by a large sofa, but it’s possibly bigger than Fleur’s entire dorm. The walls are draped in soft, silky scarves and there’s an elegant emerald green chaise lounge under the massive double window. Small wooden footstools are set in clusters around the room and there’s a spindly antique desk pushed up against the wall with various thick notebooks and writing utensils scattered across it. Fleur frowns slightly at the sight. Why paper?

She turns to look back at Draco, realizing he hasn’t said anything. He’s just staring at her again, and Fleur shrugs and pulls out the drive.

“So I thought-” she breaks off, utterly shocked, as Draco levels a (frighteningly realistic) water pistol at her head. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I know you’re the one with the flag,” Draco says, and the calmness in his voice is perhaps the most alarming part of this whole situation.

“What flag?”

“Don’t bother playing dumb.” Draco looks her up and down in annoyance. “You can’t have it on you, that outfit is too short.”

Fleur bristles. She may be in some kind of weird standoff with a fifth year and have a water pistol aimed at her head, but she is not about to let a boy comment on her clothing. “It’s hot outside,” she says. “And-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Draco says loudly. “Where is the flag?”

“What flag?” Fleur says, even more loudly. _Extracurriculars are an easy way to pad out your resume_ , she thinks in an unflattering imitation of her father’s voice. So much for that. Draco clenches his jaw and starts glancing around the room, as if maybe Fleur snuck in ahead of him and stashed this mysterious flag somewhere. Fleur tries to start edging toward the door, but Draco’s eyes snap to her as soon as she moves.

“Don’t bother running for it. I have a lieutenant at the door and another under the window.”

“It’s the third floor! How am I going to escape from the window!” Fleur snaps. Draco narrows his eyes.

“Good to see Potter’s recruit choices are still scraped from the bottom of the barrel,” he sneers. Fleur feels like it’s supposed to be offensive but she’s still mostly just lost.

“Harry? What does he have to do with anything?” Fleur asks, which makes Draco look almost as confused as Fleur feels. His face clears after a moment and he leans back against the desk casually.

“Nice try, but I’m not going to buy that you’re uninvolved. I’ve seen you talking to him all over campus.”

“Harry Potter?” Draco raises both eyebrows and makes a, ‘Yes, obviously,’ face. “I barely even know him, he’s just really friendly. I mean, almost too friendly.” It’s not worth being kidnapped and held at fake-gunpoint, but it is kind of cathartic to be able to badmouth Harry without Tonks’ sad baby rabbit eyes looking disappointed. “He wants me to join his club or something. My roommate keeps trying to get me to go to their meetings but it sounds kind of boring, to be honest.” Fleur decides she may as well unburden herself completely since who is Draco going to tell? “And, like, it’s great that Tonks having fun but I have a lot of homework and I need to keep my grades up-”

“Tonks? That’s your roommate?” Draco’s face is almost frighteningly intense, and Fleur backpedals instinctively.

“No,” she rolls her eyes, pretending annoyance. “My roommate is named,” she fumbles around for one of the first years from BPS, “Lavender.”

“I can access room assignment data you idiot,” Draco snarls. “Millicent!” he yells. The door opens slightly and the Vice President slips in. She shuts the door quickly and stands against it with her arms folded. “This one’s just a decoy. Get everyone moving right now before Potter finds out we fell for it.”

“Shit,” Millicent mutters. She lifts her watch to her mouth and presses a button on the side. “Who has eyes on Potter?”

“Hold on,” someone says. A couple minutes later a series of beeps sound over the watch. Draco and Millicent both relax slightly.

“What about the other two?” Draco asks.

“Greg was supposed to take over for me. I’ll go confirm,” Millicent says, eyes flicking over to Fleur.

“Stay here and guard the decoy, just in case. I’ll go,” Draco says, turning and marching out of the room.

“Can you really access room assignment data?” Fleur asks. She doesn’t particularly expect an answer, but that would be a useful skill to add to her database. The school’s encryption has to be pretty good.

Before it even becomes clear whether Millicent is going to answer or not, though, the window behind Fleur shatters. She tries to turn around, but someone grabs her around the waist and yanks her backward.

Fleur can hear Millicent yelling but she’s too busy screaming to really listen because _she is literally flying through the air_. She closes her eyes and waits for imminent death. She just has enough time to wonder if a three-story drop will kill or just maim her when they stop moving. Fleur cracks an eye open and realizes that she seems to have fallen up somehow. Someone forcibly turns her around and starts tugging her toward the side of the building.

“Move it, decoy girl. The roof is the first place they’re going to check.”

“What the fuck,” Fleur says blankly, doing as she’s told. She doesn’t particularly want to go near the side of the building, but she also doesn’t really want to get into a confrontation with Millicent. Millicent could snap her in half without even breaking a sweat.

“We’re going to rappel to the next building.”

“We?” Fleur squeaks. Her rescuer rolls her eyes and tosses something across the scarily massive gap between the buildings. It catches, and she sticks the other end down on their rooftop, where it attaches itself firmly. That’s all the warning Fleur gets before she’s airborne again. They nearly smack into the bricks across the way, but Victor opens the window and pulls them in.

“All good, Alicia?” he asks. Fleur’s rescuer, Alicia, she’s assuming, nods and unhooks the clasp she must have attached to Fleur’s belt when she came in the window. _Thank goodness the silhouette for this sundress needed a belt_ , Fleur thinks faintly.

“We need to move. Malfoy was clear but Bullstrode was standing guard,” Alicia says. Victor picks up a schoolbag and hands it to Fleur, giving her a bracing smile which she doesn’t return.

“Put that on,” he says. Fleur glares at both of them but complies.

“We need to be seen by a teacher, and fast, before the others catch up,” Victor explains. “They can’t grab you when we’re visible.”

“Fine,” Fleur snaps. The three of them run down the stairs, Fleur in the middle, bursting out onto the quad at the same time as Millicent. Two lackeys flank her, and the three of them immediately start toward Fleur.

“Run,” Victor yells. “Get her to main campus.” Alicia nods and grabs Fleur again. She twists to look behind her as they’re running and does something with her wrist that makes purple smoke explode out behind them.

“What is happening?” Fleur goes for angry and annoyed but it mostly just comes out winded. She’s not really used to this level of physical activity.

“Hop on,” Alicia says, pulling a double hoverboard out from behind a hedge. Fleur complies, taking the back stand so she can hold onto Alicia. She’s never actually ridden a hoverboard before, since you aren’t supposed to get a permit until you’re nineteen. Alicia doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be overly concerned about licensing regulations, so Fleur does not bring this up. She’s too busy desperately clinging to Alicia’s waist and trying not to tip them both over to be too chatty, anyway.

Alicia takes her all the way to the first year dorms, and then slides to a stop and hops off. Fleur nearly falls at that point, her center of gravity completely confused between the hoverboard and the leaping off buildings, but Alicia steadies her and helps her down.

“I have to get back before anyone spots me. No permit,” Alicia says.

“Of course not,” Fleur grumbles. Alicia waves to someone over Fleur’s shoulder, but zooms off before she can turn around and see who it is.

“Come with me,” someone says from behind her. Fleur turns to see a boy she thinks she recognizes from her Cartography class. She isn’t totally sure, though, and she isn’t really eager to go somewhere with another stranger just yet. The boy must see her hesitation, because he gives her a tentative smile and gestures back toward the first year dorm where Fleur lives.

“We’re just going inside. You know Padma, right? We’re meeting in her room.”

“Okay,” Fleur says slowly. She knows Padma fairly well, although she hadn’t realized the other girl was so involved with BPS, and Alicia clearly knows whoever this boy is. Alicia saved her from...whatever is going on with Draco, surely Fleur can trust her judgement?

She follows Cartography boy, who introduces himself as Neville, into Padma’s apartment. There are four other first years squashed onto the couch, and they all try to get up at once to greet her. Padma herself gets there first.

“I’m so sorry you had to find out this way,” she says, a small line appearing on her forehead.

“Find out what?” Fleur asks, annoyed. She feels like she’s missed something major, but she can’t figure out what it is. What is up with clubs at this school, anyway?

Everyone exchanges looks, piquing Fleur’s irritation further, and Padma bites her lip and glances over at her sister. She steps forward a little.

“Do you want something to drink?” Parvati tries. Fleur rolls her eyes.

“Just the explanation, thanks,” she says sarcastically. Parvati escapes into the kitchen anyway.

“Er, right. Well I’m Lavender.” _Yeah I remember,_ Fleur thinks, not feeling the slightest bit guilty for throwing her under the bus with Draco earlier. “Obviously you know Padma and Parvati, and you met Neville, and that’s Ernie.”

Ernie is staring at her a bit, so Fleur shoots him one of her most venomous glares and crosses her arms. “None of that sounded like an explanation.”

“Right, so,” Lavender continues, seemingly having elected herself spokesperson. “Apparently the club system here is,” she pauses, as if she’s weighing what to say next, “more complicated than any of us initially thought.” Padma snorts at this but Lavender ignores her. “Basically, the leaders of certain clubs compete in a year long contest of some sort.”

“We don’t know all the details ourselves, yet,” Neville breaks in. “Since we’re new recruits, part of our initiation or whatever is having these kinds of things sprung on us at the last minute.”

“The point is,” Lavender takes over again. “Dra- er, Malfoy thought you were part of BPS. That’s why he grabbed you.”

“More specifically,” someone says, coming out of the bedroom. “She thought you were me.” Fleur whirls around, practically knocking Lavender out of the way in her haste. She knows that voice.


	12. Moon Base

“Tonks?” she says, voice high and strangled. The only thing that keeps her from completely losing it is that Tonks looks just as miserable as Fleur feels.

In retrospect, Fleur feels stupid for not expecting this. She knew BPS was involved. She knew Harry was _really_ involved. Somehow, though, she never connected it to Tonks being involved. The thought that Tonks was lying to her, hiding things from her, didn’t ever occur to her.

_It’s stupid to feel this upset,_ she thinks, distantly. _You barely even know her. She’s not your best friend. She doesn’t love you. It’s not like she owes you anything._

Her heart, slamming against her ribs, disagrees.

Fleur makes a valiant effort to keep all of this off her face, or at least to look angrier than she does hurt, but she thinks she must fail pretty miserably if Tonks’ expression is anything to go by. The others practically scamper back into the bedroom, leaving the two of them alone.

“What’s,” Fleur starts, stopping to clear her throat. “What is this?”

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you anything,” Tonks says, talking fast like she’s afraid Fleur will suddenly decide to leave. “Some of this stuff the other first years don’t even know,” she adds, gesturing vaguely to the bedroom door and then to her own torso. “This is why I wanted you to come back to BPS, because then I could tell you things and it wouldn’t have to be a secret. I hated this. I’m not a person who has secrets, okay? I’m not good at them.”

“Right,” Fleur says coldly. She feels like Tonks is trying to make her feel better, but her words are doing just the opposite. Tonks _lied_ to her, and about something huge. And the worst part is, Tonks isn’t upset because she lied to Fleur, she just feels guilty for lying in general. Tonks is still talking; Fleur tries to focus past the buzzing in her ears but she can’t. “I have to go,” she breaks in. Tonks reaches for her, but Fleur backs away, fumbling for the doorknob behind her.

She doesn’t know if Tonks follows her; as soon as she gets outside she’s running, and she doesn’t stop until she’s back in their dorm. Hermione and Ginny aren’t there, fortunately. Fleur locks herself in the bathroom, just in case they come home unexpectedly or if Tonks has followed her. Fleur turns on the shower so no one will be able to hear her if she cries, and slides down to sit on the floor and lean against the bathtub. She pulls her knees up and wraps her arms around them, and tries to think about nothing at all.

—-

Class the next day is awkward, to say the least. Tonks is gone by the time Fleur wakes up, or maybe she never came back at all. Fleur tries not to care, and manages to mostly ignore Tonks in History of Court Fashion. She’s never been more grateful for a pop quiz, even though she’s completely unprepared (due to being unexpectedly kidnapped; thanks Tonks). It’s mostly dates of major changes to the Council uniform, though, and she was pretty solid on those before the term even started.

PANDA lit is more complicated. They’re supposed to be going on a field trip to one of the moons, something about an old colony site that housed a poetry collective, and with travel time they get the rest of the day off from classes. Normally, Fleur would love an excuse to skip her required, but horribly dull and irrelevant to her future interests, afternoon Cartography class. With things as they are though; spending the whole day with Tonks when they are fighting doesn’t exactly sound like a thrill ride.

“So, you still aren’t speaking to me?” Tonks asks in an undertone. Fleur keeps her eyes ahead resolutely.

“I’m not _not speaking to you_. I’m not a child.”

“You know what I mean,” Tonks mutters.

“If you’re asking if I’m still angry at you, then yes. I am.”

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Fleur! I didn’t exactly have a choice.”

“I don’t care,” Fleur snaps. She grabs her bag and tries to get up to switch seats. She should have known better than to pick an empty row, but she was rushing to the front of the group to try and avoid this very conversation and barely anyone was on the shuttle.

“Girls,” their harassed-sounding PANDA lit teacher yells from the back of the group. “Keep in your seats, please.” Fleur grits her teeth and sits back down.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she hisses.

“Okay, but I’m not going to just go away,” Tonks says gently. “We have to keep living together, you know. I would like to do it as friends.”

“That’s going to be hard while you’re Harry’s little minion,” Fleur practically spits out the name. Draco may have been the one to attempt…whatever that kidnapping thing was, but Fleur is extremely aware that the whole thing is Harry’s fault. He’s the one who decided to use her as some sort of scapegoat in this weird competition of wills or whatever.

Tonks glances around to make sure no one else is listening to them. Fleur feels an uncomfortable surge of triumph at the victory. If she’s miserable, she thinks Tonks should be as well. The pleasure is short-lived. Tonks looks at her with sad, serious eyes and Fleur’s resolve crumbles like dry, over-baked dough. “You should have told me,” Fleur says, staring forward again. She’s afraid if she keeps looking at Tonks, she’ll start crying.

She sees Tonks lean in close out of the corner of her eye. Fleur’s treacherous heart skips a beat.

"I want to make this up to you,” Tonks says, low and serious. “Harry gave me something to do up here. It's supposed to be a secret, but if you help me sneak off I’ll show you.” Fleur purses her lips, thinking about it.

On the one hand, she’s still pretty hurt that Tonks lied to her. On the other hand, Tonks does seem to be trying to make it up to her. The main reason Fleur was so upset the night before was because she felt like Tonks didn’t care about her or value her friendship, but if Tonks is trying so hard to make this up to her, maybe that isn’t the case after all.

Besides, knowing more about what Harry’s up to can only help Fleur, in the long run. Should she decide to pursue some sort of revenge, whatever this secret mission is could be critical intel.

“Okay,” she says, simply, and Tonks shines so brightly at her words that Fleur has to look away. She hasn’t decided to forgive her, not yet, and she doesn’t like that Tonks’ happiness still weighs more with Fleur than revenge.

Ditching the rest of the group is almost sadly easy. There are twenty of them and only one supervisor, and the map of the poets’ compound is incredibly confusing. The group is barely out of the first building before their teacher is squinting and turning the map, muttering to herself about third century cartographers and their ludicrous ideas. Tonks squeezes Fleur’s hand in warning, and then tugs her away from the group behind one of the buildings. Their class moves on, and the two of them start walking in the opposite direction.

Tonks starts speaking in a fast, low voice as soon as they're out of earshot of the group. She's clutching Fleur’s hand like she's afraid Fleur will grow wings and fly off any second.

“We won’t go too far,” she says, glancing over her shoulder. “I snuck a look at the map, and the tour loops back around here at the end before they head back to the shuttle. We should have plenty of time.” She doesn’t look as confident as she sounds, but Fleur doesn’t question her. She’s busy trying to not think about the potential consequences of getting lost or left behind. Transportation between the planet and the secondary moon is rare. Not many people live up here, so it's mostly school trips and the occasional supply run. They could be stranded here for weeks if they don't get back to the shuttle in time. It would take ages to catch up on classwork.

“What are we doing, anyway?” Fleur asks, trying to take her mind off the risk they’re running.

"Well,” Tonks says, thoughtfully, “as far as I can tell, BPS and student government have this yearlong contest thing, but the biggest concentration of events is a skirmish that ends tomorrow."

"In the middle of the week?" Fleur asks, skeptical. Tonks shrugs

"Each leader picks a recruit to be a flag carrier. They’re supposed to keep track of the flag at all times and the other team has until midnight on the last day to steal it."

"So that's what you meant," Fleur says, understanding dawning slowly, "when you said Draco thought I was you."

"Yeah," Tonks says, "but you have to believe I didn't know Harry was using you as a decoy! I didn't even know you two had even spoken outside of meetings. I would never have said it was okay if he had asked me." Tonks has stopped walking and is just peering into Fleur’s face eagerly. Fleur sighs and looks down at their joined hands.

"I want to believe you," she says, hesitant.

"Just promise me you'll keep an open mind," Tonks breaks in quickly. After a moment, Fleur nods. Tonks squeezes her hand and starts walking again.

"Harry wants me to leave the flag up here, take a video, and post it at midnight when the contest ends," Tonks says, and it's unexpected enough that it startles a laugh out of Fleur.

"That's actually...kind of brilliant." Fleur contemplates how much this will piss Draco off, not without pleasure. Too bad she’s not going to be at the student council meeting to see it.

Tonks shrugs and stops, glancing around. "This is as good a spot as any." They're in the middle of a small crater, hidden from view by the neck-high sloping walls and the sparse vegetation. "Keep watch?" Tonks asks, pulling off her uniform shirt to retrieve the flag. Fleur turns around quickly. She listens for anyone approaching and tries not to think about Tonks half-dressed behind her.

"All done," Tonks says, after a moment. Fleur turns to look. She's tied the flag to a small scraggly tree, where it flutters proudly in the light breeze.

"What about the video?" Fleur asks.

"Right," Tonks says, coming over to stand next to her. She pulls out her communicator, taking a silent video that pans around the crater to show where they are, and then zooms in slowly on the waving flag. She stops recording, double checking that neither of them are in the shot and that the time stamp is accurate, and saves it carefully. "Let's get back before they notice we're gone," she says, stowing her communicator.

As they’re walking back, Fleur voices a vague question that has been hovering in the back of her mind since Alicia pulled her out of that window.

“So, what’s the deal with Harry and Draco?” Tonks laughs a little and shrugs.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Harry really hates Draco. Apparently they used to be in student council together and Draco just got really controlling or something? Anyway, BPS split off and they’ve been feuding ever since. It happened when they were both second years, and then last year a long running prank war escalated into this weird contest thing. Apparently there’s actually an engraved goblet that the winner gets to keep for the whole next year.”

“Are you serious?” Fleur asks, incredulous. Tonks nods and gives her a Young Explorers salute to indicate she’s telling the truth.

“Draco has it since he won last year. It’s in his dorm room.”

“How do you know that?” Fleur asks, with an irrational surge of jealousy. It’s not like Tonks and Draco are secretly dating. _Calm down, Fleur_.

“Harry has pictures of all the rooms Draco spends a significant amount of time in.”

“That’s...commitment.”

“Lavender, one of the other recruits, thinks that they’re either secretly together or had like a really terrible breakup or something and think this is the only way they can get each other’s attention.”

“That’s kind of sad,” Fleur says, musingly. Tonks looks at her questioningly, and she clarifies. “I mean, I still hate both of them,” Tonks laughs, “but if what Lavender thinks is really true, I think that’s sad.” Tonks shrugs.

“Well, like I said, none of us really know. To be honest, that sounds a bit dramatic to me.”

“More dramatic than feuding secret societies?” Fleur asks. Tonks shrugs, acknowledging her point.

“They’re keeping us mostly in the dark and just giving us enough information to finish our assigned tasks. Everyone speculates, but we don’t really know.”

They don’t have much more time to talk. Fleur starts thinking about the potential consequences of their sneaking off again and doesn’t fully relax until they pass the shuttle on their way back to the tour’s starting point. They could still be caught and get in trouble, but that’s a lot less terrifying than being stranded on a moon for an indefinite period of time. She and Tonks duck back behind the same building and wait for their group to reappear. They can’t really talk, the risk of discovery by one of the compound museum workers is small but definitely present, but Fleur feels better than she has since the whole BPS thing started.

A couple of their classmates give them knowing looks when they rejoin the group, but none of them say anything and their teacher is slumping into her seat with exhaustion after a cursory head count.

“Success,” Tonks whispers, grinning at Fleur. Fleur smiles back, cautiously.

“I want you to promise me something,” she says, after the shuttle takes off.

“Anything,” Tonks agrees quietly.

Fleur hesitates a little before asking what she wants to ask. She isn’t entirely sure she’s ready, but she also doesn’t want to feel like she did when Tonks came out of that room. Not ever.

“From now on, we need to be honest with each other. No more secrets.” Tonks looks at her gravely and nods.

“No more secrets. We’re in this together from now on.”

“Even if Harry doesn’t like it?” Fleur can’t resist the urge to put a slight, unpleasant, emphasis on Harry’s name. Tonks grimaces, but doesn’t hesitate.

“Even if Harry hates it. I think he’ll work around it, though. After all, you helped him win flag tag. He got student government’s flag three days ago. It gives us something to bargain with.”

“I’m not joining BPS,” Fleur insists. Tonks looks disappointed, but she nods.

“I understand. I don’t want to quit, though.” There’s an unspoken _and I don’t think you should ask me to._ Fleur sighs.

“We’ll figure it out,” she says. Tonks squeezes her hand and changes the subject.


	13. Parley

Fleur doesn’t go to the next student government meeting. She feels unsettled by the whole club situation, frustrated at being an outsider and tired of being excluded. Not eager to explain why she’s quitting to Hermione and Ginny, she spends the normal meeting time attempting to finish some homework on a bench by the library.

“Moment of your time?” someone asks, startling her into nearly dropping her communicator. Draco, the last person Fleur expected, is standing in front of the bench.

“What,” Fleur snaps.

“Could we go somewhere a little more private?” Draco asks, glaring at a few girls who are looking at them curiously. The girls scurry off, whispering to each other.

“Considering the last time I went somewhere alone with you, I was held at gunpoint and pulled out a third story window, I’m going to pass.”

“Water-gunpoint,” Draco points out.

“Whatever,” Fleur says, briskly shoving her things back into her bag.

“Look,” Draco says, “I know Potter makes a convincing case for himself, but don’t you think you should at least listen to my side of the story?” Fleur purses her lips and pauses to think. She wants to just leave, but some small part of her still wants Draco’s approval. Who knows why. Probably the relentless drilling in respecting authority figures and never letting someone know they’re your enemy that comprised her childhood.

She also gets the feeling that she isn’t going to get any details on whatever is going on from Harry’s end, even though Draco seems to think she has them. Maybe listening to Draco wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“I’ll give you two minutes,” Fleur says, finally.

“Fine,” Draco concedes with ill grace. He takes Fleur’s arm and practically tows her into the library. They move rapidly through the rooms, down two different staircases and into a claustrophobic hall of closed, numbered doors. Draco pulls out a small key chip and waves it in front of the reader on one of them.

It’s some kind of study cubicle, barely big enough to fit the two of them but definitely private. _At least there’s a window,_ Fleur thinks.

Draco seems only marginally more relaxed, and the first thing he does is bark a question at her in Eeonian.

“Yes, I speak it,” she replies in the same language. She’s somehow unsurprised Draco knows her home planet. It’s a fairly common language, although not widely spoken here. She’s assuming that’s why he’s picked it.

He takes a deep breath and launches into his story. “Potter and I used to be close; in fact, we grew up together. We both joined student council freshman year and were passionate about changing things. It was good, at first. We got thrown together on projects a lot because we were the youngest and least experienced, and that’s when the problems started.”

“You mean,” Fleur can’t help breaking in, “when you turned into a tyrannical backstabbing monster.” Draco raises an eyebrow.

“Potter’s words, I’m assuming.”

“I’m just guessing, based on your personality.”

“It wasn’t that simple,” Draco snaps. “He wants everything to be hearts and flowers all the time, but he isn’t good at putting in the work to see that happen.” Fleur folds her arms and doesn’t answer. She can’t honestly say that she’s that big a fan of Harry at this point, either, although accusing him of a lack of follow through seems like wishful thinking on Draco’s part.

She’s starting to lose patience. They’ve both lied to her and tried to use her and she doesn’t know how any of this is going to work out positively for her future council qualifications. Draco takes a deep breath and starts again. “Look, why did you join student government to begin with?”

“Why do you care?” Fleur asks, caught off guard by the apparent subject change.

“Because, I don’t think you should give up on it just because Potter tried to use you to get to me.” Fleur nearly scoffs aloud at that.

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re trying to do? You think I have some kind of line on him, that’s why you want me to join your club. You didn’t care at all before. I wasn’t one of your chosen minions so you froze me out.” Draco purses his lips.

“That isn’t precisely true. We just each have a rule that we can only have five new members by the end of skirmish each year.”

“Skirmish?” Draco waves his hands impatiently.

“You know. The first set of challenges. Jade Run, Black Spot, Emblem Capture, and Flag Tag.”

“I see. So I wasn’t one of your five picks, right? That’s why everyone ignored me at meetings.” Draco makes a face at this, but it’s closer to ‘I was hoping you wouldn’t notice’ then ‘yes, and I feel guilty about it.’

“I thought you were part of Potter’s club, remember? You were seen at his first meeting.”

“I was seen?” Fleur says sardonically.

“Do you want membership status or not?” Draco snaps. Fleur’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Haven’t you already picked your five?”

“Obviously, but Potter started with six this year as well. They knew going in that there was a chance they would lose their status after skirmish. Part of the point is to weed out the weak ones.”

Fleur doesn’t know how to feel about that. It’s a bit brutal, she supposes, but she doesn’t really care about any of the student council first years. She doubts even one of them would hesitate to stab her in the back. Well, maybe Cho. She at least smiles at her at meetings. On the other hand...

“Give me one good reason why I should join, after everything you’ve done,” Fleur says.

Draco taps his fingers on his elbow thoughtfully, peering into Fleur’s face.

“You’re ambitious, right. That’s why you joined us in the first place,” he doesn’t phrase it as a question, so Fleur doesn’t acknowledge it as one. “Student government is a good start, whatever you want to do. It shows you have leadership potential, that you can organize events and move people. And,” Draco says, after a tantalizing pause, “I haven’t picked my successor yet.”

Fleur clenches her hands in her skirt as a wave of desire washes over her. Student body president would be a real, concrete first step toward the currently ephemeral goal of a council seat. She wants that enough that even the flash of triumph on Draco’s face can’t entirely dissuade her.

“I have some conditions. Well, one condition,” Fleur says.

“I can’t confirm that you would be president,” Draco warns. “You have to earn it.”

“As long as there is a real chance and this isn’t just a lie-”

“It’s real. I have to make the choice soon. I’m graduating at the end of next year.” Fleur nods, thoughtful. She doesn’t particularly like Draco, but this gives her one hell of a motive to work with him.

“I’m not lying to Tonks.”

She’s still not totally sure if she wants to hold up her end of the bargain or not, but she’s sure as hell not letting Draco dictate what she shares and what she doesn’t.

“The roommate?” Draco asks, tone derisive.

“Yes,” Fleur says. She doesn’t bother to explain; it isn’t any of Draco’s business.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Draco mutters. “Fine. With this caveat. You tell her only as much as she tells you, and you pass along to me any information she has about Potter’s movements or BPS.”

Fleur snorts. “Yeah, right.”

“She’ll be doing the same with Potter,” Draco says calmly, as if he anticipated this line of argument.

“You don’t know that,” Fleur argues, although he’s probably right.

“I don’t know if she’s mentioned this,” Draco says silkily. “Oh, but of course she has, you’re such good friends.” Fleur bristles at the mocking in his tone. “Potter’s grooming Tonks to be his successor.”

Fleur tries valiantly to keep her face blank, but this genuinely shocks her, and Draco’s gleeful smile seems to indicate that he knows it.

“I’m going to talk to her first,” she says, still firm. She’s going to give Tonks a chance to explain, this time at least.

“Fine,” Draco says, waving a hand. “You have until the day after tomorrow at seven bells, evening. I’ll find you.” With that, Draco opens the door and ushers Fleur out. Fleur sort of wants to storm off in annoyance at how high-handed Draco has been. The library is really confusing and she isn’t entirely sure she could find her way out, though, so she just follows him back to the main floor.


	14. Stitches

Tonks is making dinner when Fleur gets back to the apartment, but she can’t bring up her conversation with Draco right away since Hermione and Ginny are in the living room.

“I need to talk to you later,” she whispers to Tonks, under the pretext of grabbing a bowl to throw together a salad with. Tonks looks at her searchingly, and then nods.

“What are we eating tonight?” Ginny asks, abandoning her homework to wander into the kitchen. “It smells amazing.” At this point, they’ve been living together for enough time that they’ve settled into a bit of a routine. Tonks does most of the cooking, with Fleur helping out occasionally. Ginny and Hermione do the washing up, and they all put their food credits together to buy supplies.

“Not sure yet,” Tonks says. “I’m just sort of throwing together some things and seeing how it turns out.” Ginny looks down at the pot skeptically, then shrugs.

“If it were anyone else it would make me nervous, but you two are like kitchen witches.”

“I’m pretty sure witches are a myth,” Hermione says doubtfully from the living room.

“There are documented sightings on several planets,” Ginny argues.

“It’s just how they explain away people who are actually observant enough to see what’s going on outside of their own little worlds,” Hermione argues. “Otherwise, why would they only be found on unaware planets?”

“You don’t think some people are more sensitive to energy than others?” Ginny asks, leaning over the counter curiously. Tonks carefully moves the hot pan out of the way. Hermione shrugs.

“I’ve never met anyone who is. I think people just want to feel special.”

“It is weird, though, that some people start to figure out things while others don’t,” Tonks muses. “And it kind of accumulates, too. Like, more and more people start believing and exploring and then the planet eventually tips from unaware to aware status.”

“And then the witches _magically_ disappear,” Hermione says drily. Ginny laughs.

“Well, I believe in them, anyway. My great aunt was one,” she says.

“Everyone’s great aunt was one,” Hermione grumbles.

“What do you think, Fleur?” Tonks asks. Fleur starts a little, nearly cutting her finger.

“About what?” she asks. When they all look at her, she makes an attempt to recall her wandering attention.

“Witches,” Ginny says. Fleur purses her lips. She hasn’t been listening well enough to just disagree with whatever Ginny’s opinion is, so she decides to simply be honest.

“The official position of the Intergalactic Council is that witches don’t exist.”

Ginny snorts. “Well, that sorts that, everyone. If the _council_ says it, it must be true.”

Fleur doesn’t even bother to get offended. Of course that would be Ginny’s attitude. Tonks seems a bit worried this will develop into an argument, though, because she calls them all for dinner. Between the bustle of setting places and avoiding elbows during distribution, the conversation is forgotten.

Fleur stays quiet at dinner, eating quickly and trying to think of an excuse to slip off with Tonks without making the other two too suspicious. She’s having trouble thinking of anything other than figuring this Draco and Harry thing out, and getting an answer as to whether Tonks is really as important in BPS as Draco seems to think she is. She takes her plate to the sink, rinsing it off.

“I feel like taking a walk,” Fleur says, rather abandoning any attempt at subtlety.

“Okay,” Ginny says, giving her a weird look.

“Tonks, do you want to come?” Fleur adds, floating over to the couch and looking down at the other girl.

“Yes, definitely. I also feel like a walk,” Tonks says. Hermione rolls her eyes.

“You can just say you want to be alone, you two. We get it.”

“Uh, thanks?” Tonks says, as Fleur tugs her out of the room. They both pretend not to hear Ginny say (none too quietly),

“Why do they act like we don’t know they’re together?”

Fleur feels slightly smug at this last statement. If Ginny thinks she and Tonks are together, that will neatly nip Ginny’s stupid little crush in the bud, won’t it?

“Draco came and found me today,” Fleur says, as soon as they’re a significant enough distance from the door that she’s confident they won’t be overheard.

“What?” Tonks asks, sounding more confused than shocked. She looks a bit flustered, for some reason. “Why?”

“He wants me to rejoin student government.”

“I didn’t know you had left.” Fleur shrugs gracefully.

“I didn’t go to the meeting today. He found me after.”

“Hm,” Tonks says looking forward again.

“Do you think that I should do it?” Fleur asks, trying to sound casual. “Join, I mean.” She isn’t entirely sure what she wants Tonks to say. After her confusing talk with Draco, part of her is worried that their newfound alliance is only a ploy so Tonks can squeeze her for information for Harry.

“What do you want to do?” Tonks asks, carefully. Fleur sighs.

“I don’t know.” She feels obscurely disappointed, but isn’t sure that Tonks could actually have said anything to make her feel better. “Draco implied that he might eventually choose me as his successor.” Tonks stops walking, turning to face her.

“That’s incredible, Fleur!”

“I guess.”

Tonks looks confused. “Don’t you want him to? Won’t that be good for the whole Intergalactic Council thing?”

“I don’t know if I can trust him,” Fleur says. She’s sounds cold and dismissive but mostly just feels hurt.

“I know what you mean,” Tonks says, grabbing her hands. “But, I think you should do it. I know BPS and student government don’t get along that well, but maybe we can change that, you know? If Draco is thinking of making you his successor and, well, he hasn’t actually said anything but some of the others think Harry might want me to be his, we could really make a difference.” She look so excited and guileless that something in the pit of Fleur’s stomach eases.

“Draco had some conditions,” Fleur warns. Tonks laughs and starts walking again, keeping hold of Fleur’s hand.

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

“He wants me to tell him anything you tell me about the club. He seems to think that’s fair, since he assumes you tell Harry everything I tell you. Or you will, I guess. I haven’t really had any useful information so far.” Tonks bites her lip and doesn’t say anything. “You don’t think this will work,” Fleur states. Tonks sighs.

“I just don’t know what to do. I like BPS, but if this is a dealbreaker for Harry, I don’t think it’s really fair to ask you to give up student government. You have more of a reason for wanting to stay in your club than I do in mine.” Fleur feels warm at the thought that the two of them breaking their deal hasn’t even apparently entered Tonks’ mind.

“You enjoying it is a reason,” Fleur protests. “I want you to be able to do what makes you happy.” She pauses for a moment, thinking. “What if we present it to them like a challenge?”

“What do you mean?” Tonks asks.

“Well, they’re always trying to one-up each other, right?” Fleur asks. “The two of us being full members of the club and also communicating is like an added level of difficulty. They have to either plan around it or risk compromising their plans to each other. And it’s even, because we’re both coming into the clubs around the same time and we both plan on confiding the same amount of information in each other.” Tonks doesn’t say anything for a moment, but she looks thoughtful rather than dismissive.

“That might work,” she says, slowly. “At least we can give it a try.” Tonks looks at her with a sudden, bright smile. “I’m glad we’re in this together,” she says. “It makes everything better, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” Fleur says, a little anxious with how warm and happy this makes her feel. This alliance with Tonks is nice, but it’s not what she should be focusing on. Still, there’s no harm in it at the moment, and a little happiness, a little self indulgence, surely that won’t hurt.

“Now we just need to figure out how to tell them,” Tonks adds, and Fleur draws her attention back to the current problem. She’ll worry about the future once the present is taken care of.

—-

Fleur’s hands are shaking so much that she pricks her finger four separate times before giving up and throwing her project off to the side. It’s not due for another week anyway, she has plenty of time to finish the traditional embroidery and get it into the frame. Just to give herself something to do, she wanders over to Tonks’ drawer in their dresser and pulls out her (completed and perfect) court fashion project. Tonks had gone for a different color scheme and much more complex stitching than Fleur is attempting, but they both picked an ornamental version of the PANDA crest. Fleur traces her fingers across Tonks’ delicate stitches reverently. It looks like something that could appear on the shoulder of an emperor or empress, while Fleur’s project is sloppy and knotted no matter how hard she tries.

It fascinates her, the way Tonks can be so still and focused over her embroidery, or when she sews. The energy that buzzes and hums through her body at all times seems to calm slightly, centering and mellowing. Fleur, on the other hand, doesn’t have the patience for the sustained focus it takes. She is in court fashion for the history and the etiquette. While embroidery is pretty, doing it enough to get good at it doesn’t feel worth it. Still, the things Tonks creates are impressive.

Fleur sighs and puts Tonks’ embroidery away before the oils from her fingers wrinkle it. She’ll ask for help when Tonks gets back, maybe. Depending on how her talk with Harry has gone. Fleur clenches her empty hands almost convulsively and shuts the drawer hard. She hates how invested in this she’s become. No matter what happens during this conversation, it doesn't need to affect her own plans. She isn’t quite ready, though, to make a decision between friendship and her future.

_Let me at least have this year,_ she thinks. 

According to her communicator, Tonks has been gone for nearly an hour. She isn’t sure if that’s a bad sign or a good one. She supposes if Harry had just laughed in the face of Draco’s offer, Tonks would have been back right away. Then again, maybe Harry is raking Tonks over the coals for even suggesting that she try and maintain a friendship with someone in student government. A small, terrified part of Fleur whispers _maybe Tonks agrees_.

After all, isn’t that what Fleur’s inner voice is telling her as well?

Then again, who knows where Harry wanted to meet. Maybe they haven’t even started talking yet, consumed with getting off campus and away from prying eyes unseen.

“Are you okay?” someone asks from behind her, and Fleur whirls, mind already shifting through potential ways to defend herself. It’s just Daphne, though.

“I’d be better if you didn’t sneak up on me,” Fleur snaps, trying to seem like she wasn’t startled.

“Sorry,” Daphne says, stifling a giggle. Fleur narrows her eyes at her, but shrugs.

“It’s fine. What are you doing here?” When Daphne just raises an eyebrow Fleur sighs. “Stupid question, I guess. Draco?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t have an answer yet,” Fleur warns. “Tonks is talking to Harry right now.” Daphne shrugs and sits on the edge of Fleur’s bed.

“We have about twenty minutes until your roommates get home. I’ll just hang out until then,” Daphne says. Fleur doesn’t ask how she knows this.

Fleur doesn’t know Daphne that well. She’s one of the officers in student council (Treasurer maybe? Their official jobs all seem less important than being available to do Draco’s bidding at all times), but they’ve never actually spoken.

“So, what year are you?” Fleur asks. She isn’t entirely sure how to be polite in these bizarre situations she keeps ending up in, but considering she plans to stay in student government no matter how Tonks’ conversation with Harry goes, she may as well try.

“Third,” Daphne says, closing her eyes. Fleur takes that as the dismissal it clearly is and fights back a sigh. So much for politeness.

Fleur picks up her communicator and flips idly through the books she has saved to read later. At this point, she’s questioning why she downloaded every single one of them. Who cares about actually doing her assigned PANDA lit reading or finally finishing that historical fiction book that everyone at her school last year loved. She settles for rereading one of her old favorites, figuring that if she fails to absorb more than a fifth of it at least it won’t really be a waste.

She’s just getting to the part where Geraldine singlehandedly disables the security system to the museum so her no-good art thief parents won’t get caught when she hears the door unlock and slide open. Fleur jerks upright, narrowly missing slamming her head against Ginny’s bunk. What now?


	15. Secret Hideouts and Dessert Missions

“Stop it, you’re getting me all sweaty!” Ginny practically shrieks from the living room. Fleur doesn’t hear a response, too busy frantically glancing across the room to see if Daphne has managed to find some place to hide. To Fleur’s utter astonishment, though, her bed is empty.

“Daphne?” she whispers, glancing around in confusion. Did the other girl sneak out while Fleur was reading? She didn’t think she was absorbed enough in her book to miss any movement.

“I don’t think- Oh, hi, Fleur!” Ginny says, coming into the room. “Sorry, did we disturb you? If I’d known you were studying I would have been quieter.”

It’s the politest thing Ginny has ever said to her, and Fleur is so shocked she just murmurs something about how they didn’t disturb her.

“You have a lower volume setting?” Hermione teases, coming into the room behind Ginny. Ginny swats back at her without looking and Hermione dodges easily.

“You should have come out with us! It was so fun!” Ginny says.

“Oh?” Fleur says politely, fighting the simultaneous urges to check the bathroom to see if Daphne is hiding in there and to feel Ginny’s forehead to see if she’s ill.

“It was okay, for a school sponsored party,” Hermione says.

“Like you didn’t have fun,” Ginny laughs. “All the cute boys asked you to dance,” she sing-songs. Hermione shakes her head, embarrassedly.

“You’re exaggerating,” she says, before hurriedly changing the subject. “What are you working on, Fleur?” Hermione asks, grabbing her shower caddy and looking around for a clean towel.

“Just rereading something for PANDA lit,” Fleur lies smoothly. Her stomach twists with nerves. What if Daphne is hiding in the bathroom when Hermione goes in there? How is she possibly going to explain that?

“Is someone in the bathroom?” Ginny asks, glancing around. They usually leave the door open, and it’s shut at the moment. Fleur opens her mouth, to say what she has no idea. Just then, the door swings open.

“Tonks is in there,” Fleur says, practically weak-kneed with relief.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were home,” Ginny says. Tonks nods, managing to look carefree and not at all like she just climbed in through the bathroom window, somehow.

“How was the party?” she asks.

“It was pretty fun,” Hermione says, and Ginny crows in triumph.

“Awesome. Sorry neither of us could come,” Tonks says. “We’re just about to take a study break and go get some xalana for dessert if either of you want to come with.”

“Nah I feel gross. I just want to shower,” Hermione says. Tonks looks at Ginny, who has flopped down on her bed still in her party dress.

“Bring me some back?” she asks, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. Tonks laughs.

“Okay, we will. Fleur, you ready?”

“Of course,” Fleur says, smoothing out her skirt. “Let’s go.”

Tonks doesn’t say anything when they first leave the dorm, and Fleur is too nervous to bring the meeting up herself. What if this is it? What if Harry said no, and now she has to end her friendship with Tonks?

_What if Draco’s lying to you,_ a treacherous voice in her head whispers. _What if you give this up, and the chance at being the next president never really existed?_

“Daphne came by,” Fleur blurts out, eager to end the silence. Tonks glances over at her in surprise.

“Oh? Like, the student council treasurer? That Daphne?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” Tonks says, looking forward again. “What did she want?” Fleur stops walking.

“What happened, Tonks?” Tonks bites her lip and glances around.

“I don’t mean to keep you in suspense, honestly I don’t, but I don’t want to risk anyone overhearing us. It will be okay, though, I promise.”

“All right,” Fleur says reluctantly. She lets Tonks grab her hand and keep leading her toward the center of campus.

This late in the evening, there is barely anyone outside. They only have about an hour left until curfew, so they’ll already need to hurry to get the xalana for Ginny and get back before room checks.

They’re nearly to the library before Fleur realizes where they’re going.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asks, quietly. Tonks nods, not pausing.

“I found a spot earlier. I don’t think anyone will find us there because it’s completely invisible from the path outside.” That will at least stop them from being spotted by any patrolling teachers, although Fleur is skeptical that it means Harry and Draco won’t end up finding out the contents of their conversation. Perhaps she’s starting to be paranoid, but it seems like there are eyes and ears everywhere and it makes her slow to say anything against either side.

Tonks leads her around the back of the building, where there’s a miniature garden and a couple of benches. She stops in front of a small sheltered corner near the far end, where two trees lean against the building. It’s starting to get colder as the days start to shorten, so Fleur keeps moving around to stay warm as Tonks shifts the branches to the side. Once they’ve crawled inside, it’s slightly more comfortable. The trees block most of the wind and have stopped the grass underneath from getting damp. Fleur pats down a little space and sits, leaning in close to Tonks so she can hear her without the other girl having to speak loudly and risk alerting any passers-by.

“What happened?” Fleur asks, again.

“He’s in,” Tonks says. Fleur takes a deep breath and then punches her in the arm. Not too hard, but hard enough that Tonks can feel the full weight of her annoyance. “Hey!” Tonks frowns, rubbing the sore spot. “That hurt.”

“You could have told me that much on the walk over!” Fleur hisses.

“I didn’t want us to be overheard!” Tonks is still pouting at her. Fleur drops her face into her hands and laughs helplessly, relief making her candid.

“I feel like I haven’t actually taken a breath for an entire day.”

“I’m sorry,” Tonks says, squeezing her shoulder gently. “I told you it would be okay.”

“I thought maybe you decided this wasn’t worth it,” Fleur says, keeping her face hidden still.

“What do you mean?” Tonks asks.

“Like,” Fleur gives a quick, frustrated sigh and then decides to just go for it. They promised they would be honest with each other, after all. “Our friendship.”

“Hey,” Tonks says, tugging her hands away from her face gently. “Look at me, please.” Fleur complies, flushing slightly under the other girl’s scrutiny. “That isn’t going to happen,” Tonks promises. “What would I even do without you?”

“Same,” Fleur says, realizing the truth of it with a kind of horrified despair.

“That’s all I get?” Tonks says, in mock annoyance. “Same?” Fleur laughs and looks down at their entwined hands.

“I wouldn’t give you up for anything,” she says. It’s too serious for the mood, but Tonks squeezes her hand and she’s smiling when Fleur risks looking at her. The weight of it lurks in the pit of Fleur’s stomach. She thought, truly, that she would be able to back out of this, if need be. That she could keep making the choice she always makes, future over friendship. It terrifies her, this realization that she can’t. Not now, anyway.

With difficulty, Fleur pulls her focus back to the conversation.

“It was actually easier to convince Harry than I thought it would be,” Tonks is musing. “It seems like he can’t resist any form of challenge as long as it comes from Draco.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised by that,” Fleur says, drily.

“True,” Tonks snorts. “All I said was, ‘Oh, well Draco seems to think that it would work for him,’ and he agreed pretty much right after that.”

“Wow,” Fleur says. “They really hate each other, don’t they?”

The words are barely out of her mouth when she hears the low chime echo around campus.

“Thirty minute warning,” Tonks says, jumping to her feet. “We still need the xalana, too.”

Food storage, fortunately, is on their way back and stays open until curfew. Fleur keys in her student code quickly, rattling off an order to the android on duty once her account pops up.

It strides over to the refrigeration unit and pulls out four prepackaged xalana, dropping them gently into a paper bag.

“Order fulfilled,” it says, coming back to the counter. “Please return to your dorm within the next twenty minutes or receive a demerit.”

“I know,” Fleur grumbles.

“Come back soon and have a wonderful evening,” the android drones, handing her the bag. Fleur practically snatches it and dashes outside to meet Tonks.

“Got them,” she says, breathlessly. She folds the paper over so she can grasp the bag more securely and then reaches out for Tonks with her other hand. “We should probably run for it.”

They barely make it back to their dorm before the five minute warning bell chimes. They fall inside half-leaning on each other and giggling breathlessly.

“Made it!” Tonks crows triumphantly. Ginny snorts from her spot on the couch and makes grabby hands for the bag.

“You brought some for me, right?”

“You and Hermione,” Tonks says, tossing her one of the xalana.

“You are a goddess among women,” Ginny says, tearing the covering off her dessert with relish.

Fleur has a hard time falling asleep that night. On the one hand, she’s relieved that things with Harry have worked out, and that she doesn’t need to choose between Tonks and student government. She still has her chance at the presidency. If she’s a bit nervous about how attached she’s getting to Tonks, well, there’s nothing wrong with developing friendships. Fleur has always been careful about getting close to people, but there’s no reason why this relationship has to become a problem. She can still keep her priorities the same, Tonks will just be added to them.

On the other hand, she is starting to worry about how much work this will all take. Balancing friendship with student government work, not to mention keeping everything hidden from Hermione and Ginny, won’t be easy. She almost wishes Ginny had stuck with student government, and then practically smacks herself for the thought.

Plus, there are still classes. First year is supposed to be fairly easy, academically, but Fleur’s parents expect her to have perfect grades along with a healthy amount of extracurriculars.

It’s just a lot of pressure.

Fleur is considering getting her book out again when her communicator buzzes softly. She grabs it from her bedside table, squinting as she waits for her eyes to adjust to the bright screen.

_One new message!_ it says. She taps Tonks’ picture to open their chat.

_I didn’t have time to tell you earlier,_ Tonks writes, _but BPS won skirmish thanks to the whole decoy thing. I know it was a stressful way to find things out and I’m sorry about that, but I think that the fact that we won and you helped made Harry more willing to work with us. So, that’s good, right?_ Fleur bites her lip and pulls up her keyboard, thinking about what to write back.

_Yeah,_ she says, finally. _I don’t know that Harry actually cares about inconveniencing me, but if you think it helped, that’s good._

Tonks sends back a sad face, and then a message comes through a few seconds later.

_He isn’t a total monster, you know. I’m sure he didn’t want things to happen exactly the way they did._

Fleur thinks that’s a little overly optimistic, but she doesn’t say that. If Tonks needs to believe Harry has some kind of redeeming quality in order to work with him, she isn’t going to take that away.

_Maybe,_ she sends back.

When she goes to exit her messages, she notices that there’s an unread one she hadn’t seen earlier. It came in about an hour before and it’s from Draco’s private account.

_Tomorrow right after classes, building 4E. Entry code is 599494._

Fleur scrolls down to see if she’s missing some more information, but Draco hadn’t even signed it. She turns her communicator off and vows to keep it out of her mind until the next day. Who knows what Draco has planned, and Fleur sure as hell isn’t going into whatever it is with no sleep.


	16. Conclave

Fleur honestly has no idea what to expect. The message Draco sent her only contained a time, a location, and the entry code, no other information. She hasn’t heard from him since then, although she did send a message to confirm that she was officially accepting Draco’s invitation to student government.

Fleur hesitates in the doorway for a few minutes, breathing deeply to center herself and adjusting her uniform skirt. Draco had said right after classes, so she figured she probably didn’t have time to go home and change. She checks her reflection in her communicator screen one final time and then enters the code, pushing the door open quietly. The hallways of the fourth year dorm are peaceful in the early evening. Most students are eating dinner or studying, and no one stops Fleur or asks where she’s going as she climbs up the stairs to the top floor.

Draco’s door, with the brass 25 gleaming in the low light of the hallway windows, is slightly ajar. Fleur pushes it open slowly, half expecting Draco to leap out and scold her, and steps inside. It’s much nicer than her room, she can tell that already. She isn’t sure whether it’s because Draco is a fourth year, or simply because Draco is _Draco_. There’s a little entryway with two benches set into the wall on either side and an elegant table a few feet away from the door with a lush flower arrangement set carefully in the center. An archway stretches across the far end of the room, with filmy curtains hiding the rest of the apartment from view.

“Hello?” Fleur calls, gently parting the curtains and stepping through them.

“In the kitchen,” Draco’s voice answers faintly. Fleur glances around, curious. The foyer has led her into a sitting room of some kind with three closed doors arrayed along the back wall. She isn’t entirely sure where Draco’s voice is coming from or how to get to the kitchen. She tries the far left door first, backing out when she realizes it’s a bedroom.

The middle door, fortunately, opens directly onto the kitchen. Draco is at the island in the center, carefully rolling out dough of some kind.

“We’re making pie,” he says, before Fleur can ask, “for BPS.”

“Okay,” Fleur says, going to wash her hands. As soon as she’s sure Draco can’t see her, she widens her eyes in confusion. What now?

“It’s a tradition. Whoever wins skirmish gets to claim some kind of forfeit from the winner,” Draco explains.

“And Harry asked for a pie?” Fleur asks, skeptically.

“He asked for my recording of Neirae folk songs. They’re statistically proven to boost your concentration by 40% and I normally only give copies to my friends. The pie is just a bonus.”

“Right,” Fleur says slowly. “Do you need help?”

“Get the cserins out of that bowl and wash and pit them,” Draco says, lifting one lightly floured hand to point. Fleur obeys, preparing the fruit with part of her attention and watching Draco with the rest of it. She’s still trying to get a read on the dynamic between Draco and Harry. The better she understands them, the more easily she can turn situations to her advantage.

Draco fits the dough carefully into the pan, trimming the sides slightly and balling up the extra dough.

“So,” he says, and Fleur carefully keeps up the rhythm of pitting, trying to seem uninterested. “I suppose your friend’s conversation with Potter went well.”

“I think so,” Fleur says lightly. She doesn’t mention the whole decoy thing. Draco knows about it, of course, but there’s no need to bring it up and potentially annoy him. He’s been punished by losing skirmish, so as far as Fleur’s concerned they’re square.

“When you’re finished with that, bring me the white bowl from the cabinet above the sink,” Draco says, as he re-flours the counter and starts to roll out the second ball of dough. “It’s good that you’ll know someone at the meeting. You’re going tomorrow to deliver the recording, and the pie, of course.” Something in Draco’s tone is slightly mocking, but Fleur can’t figure out the source. Does he think Fleur is going to say no to the first task she’s been assigned?

“Fine,” Fleur says. The white bowl is full of finely chopped nuts of some kind, and she follows Draco’s directions to slice and coat the cserins. “I’ve never added anything to cserin pie,” she comments.

“It’s my own invention,” Draco says, after a moment. “Pull those two strips back so I can start weaving the top crust.”

Someone knocks on the door as Draco is sliding the pie into the oven, and he sends Fleur to go answer it. Fleur wanders back through the foyer, wondering how long Draco plans to keep her here. Is this some kind of power play thing? It didn’t really seem like he needed help with the pie, and he honestly seems more annoyed that Fleur is there than anything else. Whatever, she doesn’t care if Draco likes her or not, just that he continues to mentor her.

The other first year recruits are clustered on the other side of the door, and they look utterly confused to see Fleur. She smirks at all of them.

“Please come in,” she says with a graceful wave.

The others are completely silent behind her, and Fleur keeps her back very straight as she walks down the hall. Draco, drink in hand, has relocated to the sitting room. He gestures for them to array themselves around him as soon as they come through the archway.

Once everyone is settled, Draco takes a final sip of his drink and sets it on the table in front of him. He straightens up and looks around the circle, meeting everyone’s eyes briefly before moving on.

“Thank you all for coming today,” he says, indicating the five of them with a languid wave of his hand. Fleur notices for the first time that someone is missing. “Most of you have met each other, but you’re here to make the acquaintance of my newest recruit. Fleur, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Draco raises an eyebrow and looks at her.

“I’m Fleur,” she says, giving a self satisfied smile as if they’re all idiots if they haven’t sorted that out for themselves by now. She glances around the circle, trying to figure out who’s missing.

Blaise, who’s sitting next to her, introduces himself, followed by Cho and Marietta. Cedric looks confused and slightly upset, but the other three seem to have taken whatever this is in stride.

“Unfortunately,” Draco says, easily reclaiming their attention, “Hannah will no longer be joining us at student government meetings. She found it too difficult to balance on top of her schoolwork.” Draco speaks definitively and without a shade of implication, but it’s obvious what’s really going on here. The glare Cedric shoots at Fleur is just the obvious cherry on top. Fleur took Hannah’s spot, whether the other recruits like it or not.

Fleur stares right back at Cedric, raising an eyebrow. She doesn’t care if all the other first years, if all the other student government members, hate her. They lost skirmish without her anyway, they could use the help. She wants this spot, and she will work twice as hard as any of them to keep it.

Draco ignores Cedric’s discontent, and he isn’t bold enough to openly question the leader’s decision.

He dismisses them not long after, reminding them of the next meeting date and arranging a time for Fleur to come by so she can make her delivery to Harry the next day.

“Now get out of here,” he says, gliding off the couch to give them all hugs and cheek kisses, “I have a pie to finish.” Fleur is a little surprised that Draco embraces her along with the others, but relaxes into it gracefully. Now that they’re leaving at the same time, there will be no avoiding the other four. If there’s going to be a confrontation, it will probably be now.

The door is barely closed behind them before Cedric is striding off, long legs carrying him away from the group as quickly as possible. Fleur gives an internal shrug. If he wants to be a baby and not complain to her face, that’s one less thing to deal with. Cho and Marietta follow Cedric, whispering to each other and glancing back at Fleur. So much for Cho’s pretend niceness.

Blaise alone hangs back, eyeing Fleur curiously. “They’ll come around,” he drawls.

“They should have worked harder on not losing if they wanted to keep everyone,” Fleur says carelessly. Blaise laughs, his stance loosening a bit.

“So they should have,” he says. He reaches out a hand for her to shake, and Fleur takes it. “Glad to have you.”

Blaise and Fleur walk back to the first year quad in surprisingly comfortable silence, parting and heading to their separate buildings with a final wave.

_It will be useful to have at least one ally among the other first years,_ Fleur muses as she unzips her jacket and slips off her shoes. Tonks pokes her head out of the bedroom, eyes bright and practically humming with nerves.

“How did it go?” she asks, and Fleur feels an odd twist in her stomach.

“About how I expected,” Fleur says. Tonks nods sympathetically, and Fleur fights to keep her face pleasantly expressionless. “I’m going to go change, but I’ll tell you more in a bit.”

“Okay,” Tonks says, giving her a brief hug and heading into the kitchen.

In their empty bedroom, Fleur sits down on her bed and stares forward, trying to get her bafflingly confused emotions under control. She had been fine, right up until walking through the door. She was totally unbothered by the others disliking her, because why would she care? She still isn’t entirely sure why she’s suddenly upset. There was just something about the genuineness of Tonks that sliced right through her.

She’s not used to feeling like another person genuinely likes her, cares about the ups and downs of her life, the trivial triumphs and trials. Having that, in immediate sharp contrast to the social roil of sudden betrayals and fragile alliances that Fleur is used to navigating, is strangely painful.

_Shake it off_ , she scolds herself, getting up to change.

She has just enough time to tell Tonks about the meeting in a bit more detail before Ginny and Hermione get back and the conversation shifts to more general topics.

Fleur wouldn’t say she and Ginny have gotten particularly close, but the initial animosity between them has dissipated somewhat. They don’t tend to spend time together without their other roommates around, but the four of them have settled into a fairly comfortable group dynamic.

Fleur is grateful for that at the moment. She’s still feeling a bit confused by her strange upset earlier, and it’s nice to have the bustle of all four of them to calm her and bring her back to the present.

“Movie night tonight?” Tonks suggests, as she sets a timer for the stew.

“Definitely,” Ginny says, folding her arms over the back of a chair to look into the kitchen. “We could all use a break from school.”

“All right,” Fleur agrees with a shrug. She might work on a bit of homework while they watch, she really doesn’t want to get behind in classes with everything that’s going on, but she could use the distraction.

Even Hermione agrees to take a break, although she and Fleur end up surreptitiously working on Oreviu translation in the chairs in the corner for most of the film. “As long as it isn’t that terrible movie you made me watch last weekend,” Hermione says.

“My Dog Stole the Moon is a classic,” Ginny sniffs. “You just had a horribly deprived childhood.”

“I wish I were still deprived of the experience of watching that movie.” Ginny huffs in pretend annoyance at this comment but goes to help Hermione make tea for all of them anyway.

Tonks doesn’t end up seeing much of the movie they actually pick, falling asleep on the couch less than twenty minutes in. Hermione stops Ginny from drawing something embarrassing on her face, and Fleur covers her in a blanket before they go to bed.

It’s not the evening Fleur expected to have, but it’s a nice one nonetheless.


	17. Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip I got impatient and am posting a bunch at once.

In spite of having to power-walk across campus carrying a pie and a mini file drive, Fleur shows up five minutes early to the BPS meeting. Harry raises an eyebrow when she comes through the door, but beckons her up to the front of the room.

“What’s this?” he asks, looking down at the pie. Fleur shrugs.

“He didn’t give me a message.” She hands him the file drive and carefully slides the pie onto the desk in front of Harry.

“Is that cserin pie?” Alicia asks excitedly, peering over Harry’s shoulder.

“Yep,” Fleur says, getting the knife and plastic server out of her bag. She glances at Harry. “Do you want me to cut it here or?” Harry shrugs and moves away from the desk to call the meeting to order.

“Serve it here so I can eat it,” Alicia whispers. Fleur smiles at her and starts slicing. She may not have enjoyed the way Alicia extricated her from the hostage situation, but she appreciates that she did it.

“There are plates in that bag if you wouldn’t mind grabbing them,” she tells Alicia.

“Feel free to get some pie before we start,” Harry says. “It’s been provided courtesy of our friends in student government.” Once everyone’s gotten permission, Fleur is practically swarmed. Alicia manages to get away with the first slice, and Fleur carefully sets aside a piece for Harry (as instructed), but the rest of the pie goes quickly.

They’re all looking at her or down at their plates, so Fleur is the only one watching Harry when he takes his first bite. A brief expression of annoyed distaste flits over Harry’s face before it smooths back into pleasant blankness. He sets his pie down on the table and calls the meeting to order, and Fleur realizes with a feeling of renewed frustration that she’s missed something.

That feeling doesn’t really ever dissipate as her first year at Peaceful Beginnings slowly approaches its end. Between her workload increasing as final exams start to loom in the distance and the various non-nefarious student council activities Fleur is required to participate in, she’s grateful the contest between the two clubs has slowed a little. Most of what she has to do is run messages between Draco and Harry on a semi-weekly basis. For two people who hate each other and, as far as she can tell, rarely speak in person, they seem to have a lot to say. What that is, exactly, Fleur has no idea. The messages are always in code and they’re rarely even written down. She usually has to memorize a string of nonsense, repeat it to Tonks, and then get back a different string of equally illogical words a few hours later.

It’s weird, but it’s an excuse to spend time with Tonks so Fleur isn’t complaining about that. And, she supposes it shows that Draco trusts her, at least a little. Although she lost skirmish for student government, they officially retain the goblet until the final contest at the end of the year. It hasn’t really made much of a difference in morale, at least as far as Fleur can tell, and the other first years eventually start warming up to her. She wouldn’t exactly characterize them as friends, the only one she even talks to outside of meetings is Blaise, but it’s less awkward and openly hostile, at least.

The cease-fire is especially welcome because her court fashion project has turned out to be vastly more work than anticipated. Even with Tonks doing the bulk of the sewing, they’re barely keeping pace with the schedule they set after the all-too-short midterm break.

“How did the pants fit?” Tonks asks, yawning. Fleur fights down a sympathy yawn, reaching down to straighten one of the pins holding the pieces of fabric together.

“Pretty well,” she replies. “I think the green and blue was a good idea. We still need to re-pin the top and figure out what’s going on my head.”

“And finish the written portion,” Tonks groans, thunking her head down onto her work surface. “Why did we take court fashion again?”

“No idea,” Fleur says, smiling and running a light hand over Tonks’ head. “We still have awhile, at least. I think we’re more on track than a lot of people.”

“If nothing goes horribly wrong with my stitches,” Tonks grumbles pessimistically.

“Oh, hush,” Fleur says. “Come pin the top while I’m thinking of it. I’ll sew it tonight while we quiz each other for PANDA lit.”

Tonks gives her a grateful smile, flexing her sore fingers and stabbing the needle she’s been working with into a pincushion.

“If you really don’t mind sewing for a bit, I can start on the holo-bird.”

“Were you serious about that?” Fleur asks, bemused. Tonks starts carefully draping the pieces of the top around Fleur’s torso.

“Of course,” she says, smirking up at Fleur from where she’s pinning a seam near her belly button. Fleur’s stomach flutters, and she looks straight ahead, trying to focus. She must be more tired than she thought.

“Hopefully,” Fleur starts, but she’s interrupted by Ginny banging into the dorm. Tonks twists her head around, still carefully holding the fabric in place.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, straightening slightly. Ginny takes in the scene, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, just a shit day,” she says lightly. “What’re you doing?”

Fleur gets the sense that she’s trying to change the subject. From the small frown wrinkling Tonks’ forehead, she does also. She opens her mouth, probably to press Ginny further, but Fleur steps in.

“Court fashion project,” she says.

“Oh. It’s coming together well. Seems like just last week it was a pile of fabric scraps.” Ginny grins at Fleur, but Fleur just rolls her eyes and lets the barb pass. She doubts she and Ginny will ever be close, but she’s at least learned that Ginny doesn’t mean much by her teasing. It’s just sort of the way she is.

Tonks sighs. “Well, I hope it does.” She goes back to pinning. “I wish we knew how the other pairs were doing.”

“Can’t you spy on them or something?” Ginny asks. Her tone is light. She’s not even paying them particular attention, having gone over to nose through the cabinets for a snack. Both Fleur and Tonks freeze briefly, though, suddenly conscious of how much sneaking around they’ve done this year.

“That’s the backup plan,” Fleur says finally. “I’m fairly sure we’ll do well, though. Tonks is by far the best seamstress in the class and our concept was very well reasoned.”

“Well, best of luck,” Ginny says, with a little salute. She takes a jar of trail mix from the cabinets and wanders back to the bedroom.

“Should I go check on her?” Tonks whispers, after Ginny’s closed the door.

“She’s fine,” Fleur says dismissively. “Probably just stressed about exams.”

“Aren’t we all,” Tonks mutters darkly, going back to pinning. They still have over a month to go before final exams start, but that seems like less and less time the more work gets piled on in classes.

Hermione has made them all time-tables, which were somewhat helpful, and has absolutely plastered their rooms in flash cards and memorization aids, which are theoretically helpful but also make Fleur feel slightly as if she’s living in a hamster cage.

Still, she thinks she’s mostly on track for exams. PANDA lit will be easy, Cartography is practically a joke, and between study group with Hermione and Padma and her already extensive knowledge of languages, Cluster Languages should be fine. History of Court Fashion is really the only class Fleur is concerned about, but as long as they get a reasonably cohesive outfit ready and their research done, the fashion show itself should be a breeze.

She’s just repeating these facts, which have become a sort of mantra over the last few weeks, to herself, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Hang on, almost done,” Tonks says around a pin. The knock comes again, sharper and more insistent, and Tonks sighs and hurries over to answer the door. “Oh,” Tonks says, sounding a bit confused. Fleur looks up from where she’s trying to adjust a pin that’s poking into her side to see Lavender and Marietta standing in the doorway. It almost makes her laugh, how uncomfortable they both look.

“Can I talk to you?” Lavender says, giving Tonks a significant look and then shooting a glare at Marietta.

“Um,” Tonks runs a hand through her hair distractedly. “Do you want to come in?” Lavender looks over at Marietta again, then at Fleur. There’s a little silence as everyone stares at each other. Fleur breaks it with an impatient sigh.

“I need to change. Marietta and I will walk toward the dining hall. You two, go somewhere else. Our roommate is here so keep quiet until we’re moving.”

Without waiting to hear anyone’s reply, Fleur strides back to the bedroom to put on proper clothes.

Ginny, who has earbuds in and is watching something on her communicator, doesn’t look up when Fleur comes into the bedroom. She carefully shimmies out of the pinned top and sets it on her bed, slipping off the pants and laying them out flat as well. They’re mostly sewn, at least, and it looks like the pins held well on the top. Fleur checks over the outfit one more time, making sure she hasn’t accidentally undone any of the work they’ve done on tailoring, then goes to the dresser to throw on some clothes. She ties her hair up in a high, neat ponytail, then slips her communicator into her bag, just in case. She has no idea what this is about, but if both Lavender and Marietta have shown up it’s probably something important.

Lavender and Tonks have their heads bent together when Fleur emerges into the living room, and she fights down a surge of annoyance.

“That isn’t out of the dorm,” she snaps, striding past them. Tonks gives her a guilty look, but Fleur ignores it and starts walking toward the dining hall, Marietta close on her heels. Fleur waits until they’re well away from the dorm before breaking the silence. “Well?” she says, simply.

“We just got the news about scoring for the goblet,” Marietta says, a little self-importantly.

“And?”

“Well,” Marietta puffs up a bit, “I heard about it from Millicent. I think I was the first of our year, actually. I was assigned to tell you and Cho.” Fleur feels suddenly, almost unbearably, angry. She’s tired of not knowing what’s going on with the clubs, with the distance from Tonks, with the secrets, with the stress of keeping everything going, with tentative promises of a future traded for constant and unending self-denial. “She hadn’t heard anything about it, yet, and-” Fleur stops walking, and Marietta stumbles to a halt next to her, frowning.

“I don’t care about your self-important obsession with the pecking order in this ridiculous club,” Fleur says coldly. “Just tell me my part, and I’ll do it.”

Marietta flushes slightly, glaring at Fleur. “Just because you’re jealous I know more about what’s going on than you do-”

“You,” Fleur cuts across her, voice soft but ice-sharp, “are even stupider than you look if you think any of us know even a portion of ‘what’s going on.’” She puts a sarcastic emphasis on the last three words.

“Why don’t you just quit then?” Marietta spits out, folding her arms tightly across her body. Fleur feels a flash of triumph at the defensive gesture, but it fades quickly. There’s little pleasure in riling Marietta. She knows just as little as Fleur, and has probably less power over it.

_Just a little longer_ , Fleur promises herself. Next year she won’t be bottom of the pack any more. Next year, especially if they win the goblet, she’ll have a bit more bargaining power.

Fleur sighs internally, bored with this conflict but unsure how to get out of it quickly. As little as she likes it, she needs whatever information Marietta has. Conciliation does not come naturally to her, but she makes an attempt.

“I’m just stressed about exams,” Fleur says. Swallows. “Sorry.” It sounds massively insincere, but Marietta takes the victory of Fleur’s humiliation readily enough.

“Here, I’ll show you,” she says, handing Fleur her communicator. Fleur raises an eyebrow, but takes it.

Fleur quickly realizes her mistake. This isn’t Marietta’s communicator at all. It’s sleek and thin, too small and delicate to hold up for everyday use. It also doesn’t have any kind of label, or indication of ownership. Fleur presses the button to wake it, and an unfamiliar black-and-green screen opens.

_Use thumbprint to unlock_. Fleur frowns slightly, but presses her thumb against the sensor, just as she would do with her own communicator. She half expects a flashing red error message, thinking this is some sort of prank or test from Marietta, but she doesn’t get it. Instead, _Input accepted_ , flashes briefly across the screen.

_FLEUR DELACOUR, your puzzle has been delivered to your personal communicator. It will unlock automatically at 17.10.940. You are tasked with delivering puzzles to BLAISE ZABINI and CEDRIC DIGGORY. Submit your solution within a day._

“Great,” Fleur mutters. She looks up at Marietta. “I’m meant to take the communicator, then?”

Marietta shrugs, clearly trying to look disinterested. “If that’s what it said.” She pauses, as if hoping Fleur will give her more information. Fleur gives her a patently false smile.

“Thanks ever so much for delivering this, but I’d better go now.”

Marietta huffs, rolling her eyes, and leaves without a goodbye or a backward glance. Fleur goes to deliver her messages, too busy thinking about how she’s going to juggle this on top of exams and sewing to bother about having to confront the continually unfriendly Cedric. Of course whatever this puzzle is, it’s set to unlock the night before their big History of Court Fashion presentation. These stupid clubs are more trouble than they’re worth.


End file.
